When Romance Equals Insanity
by ThisVioletofMine
Summary: A collection of Romanogers oneshots/drabbles from prompts. *Currently not accepting prompts* "She placed the A4 envelope on the table, the divorce papers inside, before grabbing her go-bag and leaving their apartment - unsure if she'd ever return to it."
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, lovely readers! Welcome to a brand new ThisVioletofMine (me :P) and VanillaAshes collab fic! So far, all of the writing we've done together has been posted on her page, so this series of oneshots is super special, as it's, well, on mine! Please be sure to check out our other Marvel stories on her page!**

 **This is, as aforementioned, a series of oneshots about the lovely pairing that is Romanogers! Each chapter is a nice little oneshot which we'll base off of writing prompts (either one-word or more detailed) given to us by YOU lovelies! So please don't be shy about dropping us a prompt either through PM or through a review! We'll try to write every prompt we get (unless the prompt is a little too M-rated).**

 **We hope you enjoy!**

 **Prompt: Independently Clingy**

It was clearly and blatantly obvious from the moment Steve first saw her that Natasha was, in fact, horribly, grievously ill. What had tipped him off? Well, for starters, she was lying on the couch, wrapped in her comforter. Natasha was one to recline casually, not so much to curl up in the fetal position. As he approached her, another big hint bashed him over the head- she was reaching for a glass of water on the ground beside the sofa, the ice inside long since melted, leaving a thick layer of dewy condensation on the outside of the cup, and even though she could clearly see it, her hand touched the ground several inches too far to the left, then to the right, and then she almost knocked the glass over in a frustrated third attempt to grasp it.

"Nat, you okay?" He asked, moving closer, knowing full well that A, she wasn't okay, and B, she would say she felt fine.

"I'm fine. Just thirsty." Natasha replied, finally grasping the glass and bringing it to her lips.

Steve rolled his eyes. "Nat, it took you several tries to get that drink." He pointed out. "How long have you been sick for?"

Natasha glared at him, that apparently not being affected by her illness. "I am _not_ sick. Don't you think I would know if I were sick?" She questioned, rhetorically.

He frowned. "Natasha, I think you know you're sick. You're just not admitting it for some dumb reason. Now, let me ask again: how long have you been sick for?"

"I'm _not_." Natasha repeated, placing her drink back on the floor and standing up stubbornly.

Steve watched as she made her way to what he assumed was the door. Except… "Nat, stop walking." He ordered, not bothering to physically stop her, as that would make her more likely to hurt herself in her clumsy attempts to escape his grip. When she just glared and kept walking, he said again, more firmly, "Nat, _stop_! Your balance is all outta whack." She kept swaying and stumbling, which was unnerving.

Natasha threw up her middle finger as she bumped into the wall and then carried on walking. "I can take care of myself."

"Nat, don't make me put you under couch arrest." He threatened, resigning himself to letting her stumble around drunkenly as he headed into the kitchenette to see if she had any cans of soup. He wasn't worried about her leaving- the door was locked, and he didn't see her finding the coordination to unlock it anytime soon. True to his prediction, he heard a loud thud from the main room and a string of foul curses just as he located the soup.

He exited the kitchen just in time to see her lean over and throw up all over the clean carpet.

"Aw, dammit, Nat!" He exclaimed, rushing forward and putting a hand on her back, not quite sure to help. After she was done, he forcefully walked her over to the couch and sat her down, pointedly putting a small trash can right next to her. Then he went over and began the lengthy process of cleaning up his girlfriend's vomit.

"Okay, maybe I could sit down for just a few minutes to let the dizziness stop…" Natasha admitted, leaning against the couch heavily. "But don't tell anybody I'm sick, because it's super embarrassing."

Steve rolled his eyes. "You've proudly discussed more embarrassing things, Nat. In front of a crowd of five hundred people." She opened her mouth to retort, but he knew exactly what her reply would be and interrupted. "It being a diversion for a mission doesn't make it count any less. You still discussed your sex life at the podium of a charity benefit in front of a giant crowd of the social elite."

Natasha scoffed. "It's not like I spoke about _your_ sex life, too! I left yours out!" She defended. "Besides, I _don't_ get sick! Never! It's the biggest weakness- apart from love, and you've already practically forced those feelings onto me. So if you tell anybody, then I _will_ talk about _your_ sexual activities to _everybody!"_

"You're despicable." He said with mock horror as he threw away the last paper towel and plopped onto the couch beside her. "How do you sleep at night?" Even as he asked this, he slung a fond arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him.

Without missing a beat, she replied, "Naked, next to you." She leaned into him, her head drooping onto his shoulder.

He smiled and leaned his head on top of hers, letting out a content sigh. Maybe a sick Nat wasn't so bad after all.

"Oh- God-" Natasha muttered, pushing him away before literally throwing up all over his lap and the couch.

"Eugh!" Steve couldn't help but exclaim, trying not to throw up himself. " _Really?"_

Natasha bent over. "Steve… I really don't feel well." She admitted, her face losing all the color she had in her cheeks.

Steve winced sympathetically and started rubbing her back, pointedly ignoring the hot mess all over his lap. "You'll be okay, Nat. I'll take super-soldier-special care of you." He promised lightly.

"I prefer Steve." Natasha spluttered. She brought a hand to her forehead. "You know- I think I feel better."

"Uh-huh. Because it's totally physically possible to feel your own temperature." Steve said sarcastically. He softened a little when she made a miserable sound.

Natasha pulled away from him slightly. "Okay, seriously, you stink of puke and it's making me wanna throw up again."

Steve frowned. "Fine, fine. I'll go make myself presentable." He stood and made his way to the door. "I'll be back in five. Please don't do anything dangerous while I'm gone."

"Wait…" Natasha said, drifting off slightly, as if she wasn't about to finish her sentence. "Don't go."

His expression softened at the downright pitiful quality of her voice. How could he say no to that? "Alright, I'm not going anywhere." He assured, thinking of how to fix the stench problem without leaving.

"You can just use my shower; you left a pair of jeans here a few days ago, which I washed- they're in my drawer." Natasha informed him, standing up and looking down at herself. "You can grab me some clean clothes, too."

Steve sighed and nodded. "Alright- why don't you go make yourself some soup while I'm doing that, then?" He suggested, making his way to her dresser and grabbing both his jeans and a new set of clothes for Natasha.

She nodded. "Alright."

After Steve was done cleansing himself of the putrid smell of vomit, he quickly pulled on his clothes and went to check on Nat- alarm settling in his gut when he didn't find her on the couch. "Nat?" He called as he began searching the small living quarters, but he received no answer. Then he finally located her, curled up in her bed like an ill burrito. From the looks of it, she was wearing one of his shirts. Where'd she get that, anyway? It had been missing for a month, and he'd specifically asked Nat if she knew where it was- and she'd said no! "Natasha, you okay?" He asked, approaching and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Have my shirt's awesome powers healed you?"

Natasha opened her eyes at his teasing joke and smiled slightly, her hands reaching out for him. "Lay down with me for a moment." She requested, gently tugging him down to the bed as she moved over to make room for him.

He complied easily and laid beside her, wrapping her in his arms. He didn't complain when she made him join her in the blanket burrito, although her heightened temperature combined with the thickness of the blanket made him uncomfortably hot within the first thirty seconds. "Feel better now?" He asked, resting his chin on top of her head.

Natasha snuggled up with him more as she nodded slightly. She made a sound of content but didn't offer any other reply.

Steve chuckled and let himself drift off too. After an hour, though, he needed to get up to supervise daily training with the new recruits. However, he quickly found that he was physically unable to leave- Natasha had wrapped herself completely around him, trapping him in place. Steve let out an exasperated-yet-fond sigh and settled back into his spot, making himself comfortable and deciding to play hooky- just for today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, Lovelies! I'm back, and I bring you a new oneshot from the collective minds of Ashes and Violet! I know, I know, this isn't one of the prompts given in the reviews- we had already planned a few starter chapters off of our own prompts to get things rolling, so the next chapter or two should be when you start seeing your own prompts being used!**

 **Thank you all SO MUCH for the stellar response this story has received so far! Also, a special thank you to everyone who contributed a prompt! Rest assured, we've taken each into account and are in the process of writing a oneshot for each!**

 **Anyways, here you go!**

 **Prompt: Catsitting**

Natasha quickly slid into the closet, effectively hiding from sight seconds before Steve walked into the room. She slowly took an intake of breath, listening to his footsteps as he approached his window. As she slipped out of the closet, she noticed him peeking out of the curtains and quickly used that advantage to stand by the door- making it appear like she had just walked in. "Hey, Steve, I heard what happened- are you okay?"

Steve raised an eyebrow and sat on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, I'm okay. Tony really needs to tighten his security- I am _not_ dealing with crazy goat-hobos again."

She laughed slightly. "I think he lets them in on purpose sometimes." She admitted, dusting off his shirt where there were visible goat hairs.

He groaned. "I _still_ don't know how that goat accessed the power cables."

"Are our power cables safe now? Or are we going to be submerged in darkness?" Natasha asked, placing a teasing hand on his shoulder. "Because we could have a lot of fun with that."

Steve laughed. "Tempting, but unfortunately this is an official goat-free zone."

Natasha chuckled and slipped past him. "Spoilsport."

"So, uh, what were you doing in the closet, Nat?" Steve asked with a raised brow, voice teasing.

She shimmied back over to him. "I've lost a few articles of clothing- was just making sure you hadn't stolen them." She ribbed.

Steve let out a dramatic gasp. "E-gad! You've discovered my secret! I'm… a crossdresser! I steal your clothes and wear them when you're not around!"

Natasha let out a quick laugh. She was _not_ expecting that response. "I _knew_ it!" She declared, unable to stop laughing as she sat down on his bed.

Steve made an affronted face. "Are you saying you've always doubted my masculinity? I'm hurt, Nat." He said, putting a hand over his heart.

"Have you seen your hair?" She smirked playfully before leaning over and taking a blatant look at his ass. "And you have the perfect ass for my jeans."

He laughed, blushing slightly. "That's something I never thought I would hear." He admitted, striking a pose before sobering. "So, why were you in the closet?"

Natasha took a breath as she smiled up at him. "I'm heading out for a mission and was just hoping you'd be so kind as to keep an eye on something for me." She sauntered over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on tiptoes to reduce the height difference. "I'll owe you one." She added, placing a kiss on his jaw.

Steve smirked and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I like the sound of _that_." He replied suggestively before cocking his head and returning to a questioning expression. "So what exactly am I supposed to be keeping an eye on?"

She grinned at him and pulled him into a long kiss. Eventually she pulled back and looked into his eyes. "Liho." She quickly pulled away, knowing how much Steve disliked her cat. "See you in a few days!" She said, quickly heading for the door.

"Wait, what? No, Nat! Come back here!" Steve called frantically.

"Don't forget to feed him twice a day and then a little extra!" She called back, holding back the laugh as she quickly left before he had time to dispute it.

 _End of scene_

Steve sighed and got on his hands and knees, peering under the bed to reveal the huge-ass black maine coon staring up at him expectantly, curled up in one of Steve's shirts on the floor. "Hello again, Liho." The cat stared into his soul maliciously, licking his chops. "Guess I'm taking care of you while Nat's away." The creature's long tail swayed lazily as he eyed Steve up.

They sat there, staring each other down, for almost a full minute before Steve had had enough and bent down to pick the cat up. Liho, as he had the many other times he'd been dumped onto Steve, immediately swiped at Steve's hands, leaving bloody trails through his flesh- an impressive feat, considering how difficult it was to make the super-soldier bleed. Steve berated himself for walking into that one for possibly the ninth time.

"Can't you be nice, just for once?" He pleaded as the cat launched forward and slammed into his leg in his attempts to flee. "Damn it, you little bastard! Get back here!" Steve was able to deftly leap over the cat and slam his door shut before Liho escaped, and the cat was _not_ happy. "Finally one-upped you." Steve gloated, shooting a hand down and scooping the cat into his arms. Liho hissed and started clawing at his chest and arms. Steve growled and glared at the feisty thing."I hate you."

End

Three days later, Steve was lying back on the couch, Liho pinned to his chest- the cat had been scratching up every single surface of Steve's room that morning, and Steve couldn't handle it anymore. Due to Liho's outright refusal to let Steve do anything completely right, the cat was also backwards in his grip, his butt right by Steve's face, tail languidly tickling his nose and chin constantly. Steve could not _wait_ for Natasha to get home.

As if summoned by his wishful thinking, Natasha was suddenly pushing the door open. "Steve?" She called. Liho's head shot up, ears pricked forward inquisitively. _Shit_. Before Steve could prevent it, the cat was scrambling to get out of his arms, back feet repeatedly pushing off of his face, claws digging into the skin under his chin until Steve was forced to release him, hands shooting up to cradle his bloodied jaw.

Steve watched loathingly as the cat sprinted over to his owner and began affectionately rubbing against her legs, purring ridiculously loudly.

Natasha grinned and bent down, picking up the cat. "There's my favorite man! Did you miss me?" She asked, kissing Liho's head affectionately.

When the cat meowed jovially in response, Steve groaned and shot the feline a hateful glare. He stood sorely and went over to Natasha. "After the hell I went through, I think I've earned the title of your 'favorite man'." He said, not caring how grumpy he sounded.

She rolled her eyes and walked over to Steve, giving him a quick kiss. "Thank you for looking after Liho, Hot Stuff- he looks perfectly healthy." She cradled the cat to her chest.

Steve frowned. "Why are you worried about _his_ health? I'm tempted to press charges on that _thing_ for mauling me half to death!"

Natasha smirked. "Who would have thought- the big, strong super-soldier got beaten up by a tiny bundle of fur." Without waiting for his retort, she turned and walked away.

Steve could've sworn that that evil spawn of Satan's purring took on a smug air as Liho peered over Natasha's shoulder to give Steve a final taunting look.

 **Be sure to leave us a review on what you think! Also, we are still accepting prompts, so feel free to pitch one to us, either through review or PM!**

 **Have a great evening, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	3. Chapter 3

**Aaaand here's the next oneshot, Lovelies! This is the first one written around one of your prompts, and the prompt was:** **James is seven years old and Steve and him plan something for Natasha on the upcoming mother's day. (You can play around with the gift idea.) But, it goes wrong when Natasha goes off to a mission the day before Mother's Day, leaving Steve and James worried instead of excited. She doesn't come back for a week, and when she does come home, James is sleeping already. She goes up to his room to kiss him good night, but it turns out James is awake and whispers "happy mother's day, ma" or something of the sort. When she leaves the room Steve greets her with a rose, a kiss, and a messy card with a hastily written "Belated Happy Mother's Day!" BY: VYLNETWILIGHT**  
 **Thank you so much for the prompt, Vylnet, and we hope we did it justice! (Sorry it's not on Mother's Day, but this took a while to get completed :P)  
**

Steve was crouched by James, who was sitting at the kitchen table and eagerly drawing on a large piece of paper with a crayon. "Let's put some roses on it- ladies love roses." He advised, taking the red color and drawing a basic outline of a rose for James to then color in.

"Da- _ad_! It's supposed to be a mommy card, not a wife card!" James scolded, scribbling over the flowers with purple. " _I_ want there to be dandelions. They're super pretty, like Mommy!"

"I thought this wasn't a romantic flowery card?" Steve teased, watching as the boy carefully drew lots of yellow circles, tongue sticking out of his mouth.

James giggled. "You're weird, Daddy." He said, adding a finishing touch- aka: a squiggly blue line at the bottom of the page- and dropped the crayon with a flourish. "Done! I can't _wait_ to give this to Mommy!" Steve smiled at the boy's innocent joy- it was certainly a blessing to the soldier and the assassin-slash-spy, bringing back a true happiness they'd never realized had left.

"I'm sure she's going to love it." Steve replied genuinely.

"Really?" James asked excitedly.

Natasha poked her head in. "What are you boys doing in here?" She inquired with a knowing smirk on her lips.

"Quick, hide it!" Steve urgently whispered to James, who swiftly shoved the card under the table and onto his lap. He turned back to Natasha. "We aren't doing anything! Nothing at all…" He said.

"Mmmhmm… I can see that. James' bed is _still_ not made." Natasha placed a hand on her hip and looked pointedly at the boy. "Did you want to go and fix that, Jamie?"

James blushed and ducked his head sheepishly. "Yes, Mom." He said, jumping up and rushing out of the room. He discreetly passed the card to Steve as he passed, genuinely surprising Steve- the kid was turning out to be an excellent spy.

Natasha's eyes followed him before landing on Steve. "I know that look." Steve commented.

"I have to head out for a mission tonight… But I should only be gone for a few days." She told him, stepping further into the room toward him. "I know we said no more last minute missions, but this one is important."

"Nat, tomorrow is Mother's' Day! You can't just leave!" Steve spluttered indignantly. "James has all sorts of things planned for us to do!"

She sighed deeply and regretfully. "I know, I know, and it's all super cute, but… we can celebrate it when I get back. I have to help a friend out; I _might_ be back tomorrow, but I can't guarantee it."

Steve ran a hand through his hair. "Well that's just great- what are we going to tell Jimmy? He'll be heartbroken."

"He'll be fine- he's _seven_ now, not a little kid." Natasha replied.

He stared at her. "What _exactly_ is your definition of 'little kid'? Because _I_ was under the impression that it meant a child under the age of ten- which would apply to James, since he's _seven_."

"Mommy's right! I'm a big boy now!" James piped up from the doorway. Steve groaned.

"You're not helping."

Natasha turned around and bent down. "Jamie, come here." He did. "Listen, I have to go on a top secret mission, so I might miss Mother's Day tomorrow. Can we do it another day instead?" She asked, smoothing down his shirt and smiling softly at him.

James' expression was pitiful, his puppy dog eyes and trembling lip in full effect. "But Mommy, we can't have Mother's Day not on Mother's Day! It wouldn't be the same!"

Steve stepped forward and kneeled beside her, looking James in the eyes. "Your mother doesn't want to be gone for Mother's Day, Jimmy… she _has_ to. Sometimes things just don't work out the way we want them to."

James pouted. "But that's not _fair_!"

"Life usually isn't." Natasha commented. "And this is one of those times, but I have to go now- can I have a hug?" She asked James, her eyes flickering over to Steve's before they trained once more on their son.

The boy looked conflicted for all of two seconds before he was a quivering mess in his mother's arms, arms wrapped tightly around her and his face buried deep in her shoulder. "Please be safe." He asked, and that just about broke Steve's heart. "Come home soon."

"I will be. I love you." Natasha replied, hugging him close to her.

"I love you too." Steve took James' hand and pulled him closer to himself as Natasha stood to leave.

"We'll be okay while she's gone, okay?" He asked the seven-year-old, who shrugged.

Natasha sighed, her eyes landing on Steve again- it wasn't often where they didn't get to say a one-on-one goodbye, but this appeared to be one of those times. "Look after your father- he's getting super old." She said before walking from the room.

James waved after her, even after she was out the door. "Bye, Mommy…"

End

Natasha stepped quietly through the building, not even making a creak, and slipped silently into one of the rooms. A soft smile made its way to her lips as she watched her son sleeping soundlessly on his bed. She approached him carefully, pulling his covers up to cover him fully and kissing his forehead before retreating.

As she reached the door, she heard movement from the bed, followed by a soft, "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy."

She smiled even wider. "Thank you, James. I love you."

"Love you too." Her son muttered, already falling back to sleep.

Natasha exited the room and was instantly next to Steve.

"Hey," he greeted happily, extending the bouquet of white roses he'd been holding.

She accepted the roses and smelled them with a smile. "Thank you." She said sincerely, leaning against him in a one-armed hug. "How was James?"

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Worried, but okay." He answered. "Did the mission go well?"

"As well as it could have gone, yes." Natasha replied. She looked at their son's door- thankful that James was sleeping peacefully- and hoped he didn't follow them into their profession. "Come on, let's go to bed."

Steve wrapped an arm around her. "I thought you'd never ask."

Natasha leaned against him even more, almost allowing her husband to carry her down the hallway and into their room. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being you." Natasha replied.

Steve smiled. "You're welcome- it's easier being myself than anybody else."

Natasha laughed, because before she and Steve got together, there weren't many people with which she was truly herself, and in a lot of ways, she found herself being even more outwardly… well, _herself_ , when they got together. So him saying that it was easier being himself was not the same for her.

Steve, after setting her down, reached for something on the dresser. "Oh! By the way, James wanted me to give this to you as soon as you got back." He passed it to her.

It was a large piece of construction paper folded into a card, with lots of childish drawings all over it. The front said "Happy Mother's Day, Mommy!" in a messy child's scrawl. In handwriting that was noticeably Steve's, the word 'belated' was inserted in blue pen above the message.

Natasha took the card carefully, a sad smile on her lips and tears nearly forming in her eyes. "I should have been here for him to give this to me." She replied, staring at the card for way too long before placing it aside. "This… _us_ … our son, is more important." She sighed, but knew that she would probably make the same call in the future.

Someone had to make the world safer for James, after all.

 **There we go! Did you love it? We hope so! Please be sure to leave a review telling us what you think and be sure to drop us any prompts you may have!**

 **Have a great evening, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	4. Chapter 4

**Heeeeey, Lovelies! Guess who's back? MEEEEE! :P Anyways, here's the next little oneshot from Ashes and I, based on a prompt by Sportsfan64, which was jealous Steve. Not gonna lie, this was WAY too much fun to write! As always, I write the Steve parts and she writes the Natasha parts, and we divvy up extra roles equally. So yeah, I, as Steve, had a little too much fun when we were writing this :P**

 **Thanks for the prompt, Sportsfan!**

 **A little forewarning: heavily implied sexual innuendos and hints and any other synonyms for 'sex talk' you can think of. No legit sexual content, but for those who are offended by implied sex and expressed desires for sex should probably sit this one out!**

 **With that said, please enjoy!**

Natasha fluffed her hair, making sure it effectively covered her ear, and clipped the opposite side out of her face. She rolled her shoulders back before looking into the mirror and making sure her skirt _just_ covered her butt- enough to tempt them, but not enough that they could see everything. That would get their target's attention. As an afterthought, she threw on the apron and exited the room, swiftly walking down the stairs and joining the other waitresses in the kitchen.

Natasha balanced the tray on her hand expertly as she walked out of the kitchen, her five-inch heels clicking with every step she took. "Care for some appetizers, sir?" She asked, bending down to offer the contents of her tray to a seated man. She didn't even need to look to know that she had gotten the attention of a few men- but not the right man.

"Target is confirmed to have a gun on his person- shoulder holster." Steve informed her through the comm in her ear. "Caution advised."

She stepped away from the man and offered the appetizers to a few guests as she passed them. "Copy that." She muttered between guests. As she neared the target, she was stopped by a man.

"What's in these?" He asked, tilting his head around the tray to check her out- not even bothering to be discreet.

"These are mini-shrimps." Natasha replied with a smile. "Care to try one?"

The man smiled wolfishly. "If they taste as good as you look, I'd love to try one." He said, picking one up and placing it in his mouth.

Steve's voice crackled to life in her ear once more. "This man is Jacob Sacobi- he's a scumbag. Diffuse carefully and continue on to target." He advised.

She ducked her head and stepped away from him. "I'm not finished with you yet!" Sacobi quickly said, grabbing her arm.

"Thank you, Sir, enjoy your evening." Natasha replied, swiftly pulling her arm from him and stepping away. He stumbled at her speed and strength and was balanced by one of his friends, thankfully deciding she was too much of a hassle to follow. "Care for an appetizer?" She asked the target and the two individuals he was with.

"Eh?" He peered up at her confusedly before the way her dress complimented her curves seemed to register. "It must be food straight from Heaven, since an angel's serving it to me." He said smoothly, his pals laughing quietly and nudging each other.

"He's diabetic. A few extra pounds of sugar accidentally getting into his food would do the trick." Steve said, just as professionally as before, though sounding slightly… alarmed? Annoyed? A sort of mixture of the two.

Natasha lowered her tray and moved it to the side as she bent down, giving all of them a perfect view her cleavage, which they all took notice of. "Then call me Angel." She said with a wink.

"He's got two poodles. Threaten them." Steve insisted.

"Steve, quit it!" Clint snapped somewhere in the background. "You'll blow her cover- also, we _do_ need the guy alive and cooperative, you know."

"Shut it, Barton."

The target, Jackson Mills, leaned closer to her. "And you can call me 'Daddy'." He murmured into her ear.

"He's a war vet, still experiences pain from an old bullet wound. Press on it." Steve instructed.

Natasha smiled seductively at the man. "Hmm, is there anything I can help you with, Daddy?" She whispered into his ear, making her voice more breathy than necessary.

Jackson smirked. "Little lady, there're lots of things you could do for me." He gestured for her to come closer. "How good do you look in skintight leather with a whip?" He whispered, the alcohol on his breath becoming painfully overpowering.

She slid a hand down his chest. "How about I try an outfit on and you decide?" She suggested, tugging on his tie to pull him closer as she nibbled on his ear.

"I don't suppose I can find more of _you_ online somewhere dirty, huh? Because you're quite a catch." Mills drawled, leaning back lazily while his buddies ogled another waitress.

"Nat, you know where the carotid arteries are, right?" Steve asked urgently. "Go for the internal carotid- that'll cut off the blood supply to the brai- _oof_!"

"I told you to _shut it_ , Cap." Clint growled.

Natasha hummed seductively. "Well, as a matter of fact… but it'll cost you." She placed the tray down, turning around and leaning over to pick up a fork, bending over a lot more than necessary before standing up. "If you're up for it, of course."

Mills made a sound disturbingly close to a purr. "I'm always up for a challenge, babe." He said cockily. "I'd give my soul to see you in action."

"That sounds like permission to kill, don't you think? He's willing to give up his soul. Yep, that's definitely expressed permission."

Natasha faintly wondered why Clint hadn't knocked Steve out yet, with these annoying suggestions- she was so going to kill them both later. But right now, she was going to torture Steve. "I'd love to show you. Down here? Or somewhere more private?" She questioned, breathily leaving small bites down Mills' neck as she leaned into him, knowing it would torment Steve.

Jackson chuckled in pleasure. "I know a place… Let's go upstairs." He suggested, standing and wrapping his arm around her waist, hand drifting down to her ass.

She allowed him to lead her, biting her lip and letting her hand suggestively slide up and down his arm as they walked.

"Nat, we've lost visual!" Steve cried suddenly after they'd left the main room. "Is he touching you? What's happening? Nat, I've got your ring in my hand right now! Remember what it means! Don't give in to the temptation! Nat!"

Natasha and Mills didn't exchange any more words until they walked into his private room. "Want me to show you what's under this outfit? Or would you prefer to see my private page first?" She asked him as she walked away from him and looked around the room, sweeping one hand over the bed. "There're videos there, too."

"Let's watch a video or two first- so I can see what you can do before I decide what I want you to do." Jackson decided, pulling a laptop from the desk drawer. "Although from experience so far, it looks promising." He added.

Natasha nodded. "Of course, Mr…?" She said, finally asking his name as she unlaced the back of her dress.

"Girl, for what we're gonna be doing, the only name you need to know is 'Sir' or 'Daddy'." He said with a rather creepy laugh, pressing his thumb onto the designated area of the screen before saying "Unlock" into the microphone. His home screen- featuring a picture of a mostly naked woman- popped up and he clicked on a web browser. "Now, what's the site?"

"Of course, Daddy." Natasha said before picking up a chair and hitting him over the head with it. She then kicked him and the chair over and used the bludgeon as a seat. "I've got access." She told the boys through her comms as she plugged in the USB, which had been in her bra. "You getting this, Clint?"

"Of course." Clint said cheerfully. "Download complete! Kick that guy in the family jewels for me, wouldja?"

"And bring me back his head." Steve inserted gravely.

Natasha took the USB out of the drive. "Clint, I am doing you no favors. And _shut up_ , Steve- it's almost as if you don't trust me." She typed onto the computer, sending an offshore account $2000 and an expired website to make it appear that he had had 'fun' before passing out. To make it more believable, she poured two glasses of wine and left a massive lipstick stain on one before stripping the guy and ordering room service for 5am for him. Finally, she kicked him in the family jewels- without telling Clint- and left the room. "On my way out."

"Thank God."

"I wouldn't be so thankful just yet, Steve." Natasha said through her teeth.

Steve was conveniently quiet.

 **And that's a wrap! Thank you all for reading and sticking with us, and please feel free to drop us a review- and maybe a prompt, if you feel so inclined! :)**

 **Also, be sure to check out our other Avengers stories on VanillaAshes' page!**

 **Goodnight, Lovelies!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Aaaaand we're back! This next prompt came from Guest, and it was Steve doing something reckless, then Nat finding out and getting mad. Unfortunately, it's hard to find something reckless for Steve to do that a) he doesn't ALREADY do and b) would somehow cause him harm, thus making Nat mad that he'd do it. The best we could come up with was what you're about to read, and it's less a reveal moment than a Steve!whump moment. Still, we hope you enjoy! We loved writing it!**

 **Thanks, Guest, for the prompt!**

"Guys, we've got a couple of Nasties approaching from the south!" Clint called through the comms. Steve groaned and grabbed his shield as it came sailing back to him after knocking four enemy combatants out.

"Are you kidding me? How many pawns can this guy possibly have?" He asked in disbelief, flipping in the air and crushing another pair of gunmen to the concrete ground. "Alright, Stark, you and Rhodey set up an aerial perimeter- don't let any more soldiers get into the building! We need to get to the database!"

"Copy that, Capsicle." Tony replied quickly.

Steve paused for a second to catch his breath between fights- he had super-stamina, sure, but they'd been going at this for a _long_ time, and the nonstop fighting was starting to sap his energy. "Nat, what's your status?" He called, worried that he hadn't heard from Natasha in a while.

"Northeast corner." Came her almost breathless reply, followed by a few gunshots and crashes. "All good here." He let out an imperceptible sigh of relief and continued climbing the stairs- rule one of invading an evil warlord's home base: never take the elevator.

"Alright, J found the database. Cap, Nat, it's about halfway between you two, on the tenth floor, second door from the elevator on the right." Tony informed.

"On it." Steve replied immediately, sprinting up the stairs and taking less time to take out each opponent that stood to face him. Once he reached the tenth floor landing, he all but broke the door down and quickly located the door he was looking for- only to find Natasha running at him from the other end of the hall, looking bruised but otherwise totally unscathed. "I said _I_ would take this." Steve argued as she got closer.

Natasha smirked at him. "I believe that _I_ was supposed to get into the database, remember? _You're_ the one deviating from plan."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but that was before you got swamped with bad guys and I turned out to be closer!" He objected, hoping she wouldn't recall that Stark had said they were equal distances away from the database. Then he sighed. "Fine, but I'm going in first."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "You need to get your ears tested, old man." She mocked.

Before he had chance to respond, he saw two hostiles entering at the end of the corridor and quickly threw his shield at them. However, these two hostiles were part of the elite task force their target had put together, and they dodged just before the shield made contact with them. The projectile imbedded itself in the wall, almost fifty feet out of Steve's reach. Natasha pulled out her gun and shot the men down before anyone could blink, and then, while Steve was still in slight shock, she quickly sidestepped him and kicked her way into the room.

"Nat, wait!" Steve called after her, wanting to grab his shield before they went into an unfamiliar room. Then again, he didn't want to do the fifty-foot walk of shame to go grab his failed weapon.

"Don't be so-" Natasha stopped midsentence and froze, her eyes darting around the room. Steve rushed in to stand by her, and he immediately knew what had alarmed her. The eerily familiar light ticking of a bomb, coming from right in front of them. Before he could think, Steve automatically grabbed Natasha's arm and yanked her forcibly out of the room, pushing her in front of him. The bomb went off then, and, with little else to do, as they still weren't outside of the room, Steve pushed her to the ground and covered her with his own body as an intense, fiery heat bore into his back.

* * *

"Shit!" Natasha grunted. Steve's weight on her was nearly crushing- was he unconscious? He was never unconscious. "Steve?" Natasha called, forcefully pushing him off of herself and immediately sucking in a breath at the sight of dark blood everywhere. Her eyes widened.

"Everybody alright?" Tony asked through the comms.

"Shit! No." Natasha muttered, leaning over and putting a hand to the pulse point on Steve's throat, finding his heartbeat irregular and worryingly thready. "Steve's down. We need medics ASAP."

"Really?" Clint asked, surprised. "Alright, sending in the med team. Might take a while, though, since the stairwells haven't been totally cleared yet."

Natasha rolled Steve off of his side and onto his stomach to inspect the damage to his back, where he'd likely have suffered the brunt of the explosion. It wasn't pretty. His ridiculous star-spangled uniform was torn beyond repair, revealing a bloody, destroyed back underneath. There was one point where she swore she could see the white glint of bone- _oh please God don't let that be his spine_ \- shining through the carnage. What worried her most was that he wasn't healing. He was a super soldier, thought to be practically invincible due to his enhanced healing abilities and because of how difficult it was to injure him. And yet he _wasn't healing_.

"Steve? Steve, answer me." She commanded, leaning over to put her head by his ear. He didn't so much as open his eyes. Now cold, slithering panic had settled in her gut. She took a deep calming breath, looking around the room for anything that could help her- her eyes focused on his shield for a split second before turning back to him. "You need to heal… and _wake up_." She hissed at him, bringing her hands to his back as she moved the remainder of his suit out of the way. Glancing at the rest of his body, she noticed that some injuries had partially healed, which was good- but not yet good enough.

What could be preventing the healing process? Wait. Oh, she was so stupid! There was shrapnel imbedded in his flesh, keeping his wounds open and causing exponential blood loss. Those twisted metal pieces needed to be removed if Steve was to be kept from bleeding to death. She pulled out her smallest knife and hoped it was sterile enough to _not_ infect his wounds, then quickly set to work digging the shrapnel from his back. She almost stopped once, emotions making it impossible to go through with the task, but she forced herself to take a deep breath, channel the Black Widow, and keep going. This was just a mission, like any other.

Still, throughout the impromptu surgery, Natasha couldn't stop herself from muttering, "You'd better not die saving my life. This is the stupidest thing you've ever done… actually, you do a lot of stupid things- but this is definitely in your top ten. Stupid Steve- I'm going to save you, then I'm going to kill you. How could you be so fucking reckless all the time? You're not invincible. Wake the fuck up so I can shout at you!"

"You are." Steve groaned, eyelids fluttering. "Wha'... What'd I do this time?" He made a feeble attempt to move before quickly abandoning that idea and just sort of lying there, trying to look up at her from the corner of his eye.

Natasha glared at him. "You want to know what you did?" She questioned angrily, pulling out another piece of shrapnel out of his back violently and dropping it to the floor. She then pulled another one out and dropped this one in front of his face- ignoring his gasps of pain at her movements. She was less concerned about his dying now that he had woken up and she could see him slowly healing- faster than normal people, but still way too slowly for her liking. "Remember yet?" She asked, having to use her knife to get out some smaller pieces.

Steve let out a shaky exhale. "It's… starting to come back to me now." He said. "My memory is clear as butter right now, though." His attempt at a small chuckle backfired almost immediately when the movement jostled the various gaping holes in his frigging back.

Natasha hit him hard on the shoulder. "Now's not the time for joking, _Rogers_."

" _Agh_!" Steve cried before halfheartedly glaring up at her. "You know, you're not supposed to hit your patients- that's a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"Good thing I'm not a nurse." Natasha muttered as she examined his back thoroughly, pulling out a few more smaller pieces. "You're all clear. Can you stand up?"

Clint approached them, followed by the medical team, and offered a hand to Steve. "Let's get out of here."

Steve slowly made his way off the ground, wincing quite a bit, and accepted Clint's hand, letting the other man pull him to a stand. The medical team then whisked him away despite his avid protests that he would be fine in, like, five minutes.

Clint and Natasha followed close behind them. "So, did you two have a soap opera moment?" Clint teased. "'Don't die on me, Baby! I love you! You must LIIIIVE!'"

Natasha swiftly took one of his arrows and broke it in half, handing it back to him. "That's your arm if you don't shut up." At Clint's laugh, she whacked him over the head and then caught up with Steve- she hadn't finished yelling at him yet.

 **All done! Did ya'll like it? Please feel free to drop a review and/or a prompt! We ADORE hearing from you guys!**

 **And I FINALLY- with lots of patience and kind teaching on Captain Ashes' part- figured out how to do the line break! I feel incredibly stupid :P Silly Sailor.**

 **Anywho, that' all for tonight, folks! Have a good one, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	6. Chapter 6

**And here we have the next installment! Thanks,** **TheJollyRoger, for the prompt, which was a drunk Steve confessing his feelings for Natasha! Hope we did your prompt justice!**

Natasha never should have let Steve accept alcohol from Thor. Especially in such large amounts- they had claimed it was an 'experiment' to see how much it took to get Steve drunk, but she got the feeling he just wanted to experience being drunk again.

"Wha's the thing with virginity? It's so… binding." Steve reflected, staring into the distance with a dopey smile on his face and glossy eyes. "Like… it's so… so… chicken."

"Right, yes. I've heard the theory about the correlation between virginity and chickens." Natasha replied, an amused smile on her face. "Please, tell me more." She said, adjusting the video camera to make sure his face was clearly in the picture.

He hiccuped. "Well, you see…" He said, sounding like he was trying to be intelligent, "It's like this… this… Uh… Did you know that my shield is round? It's, like, got sharp corners and… stuff."

Natasha nodded. "Yes, a circle- or round object- does have an incalculable number of edges." She agreed.

"Incaltushtible." Steve agreed. "That's cool. Kewwl. Amazing."

"Amazing." Natasha repeated. "So, tell me, Steve- what does a girl have to do to turn your head?"

He blinked. "This." He answered, turning his head to the side a few times before seemingly forgetting what he was doing. "Are you…" He leaned in conspiratorially. "... A female?"

She nodded. "Yes, Steve, I hold all of the genetic markers of a female. Does that surprise you?"

"Huh?" And he was gone again. "What's with these… thingies?" He murmured, wiggling around in his chair and making it tip slightly.

"Be careful, Steve. You don't want to fall off your chair, now, do you?" Natasha questioned rhetorically. She looked the camera; she needed something more juicy to blackmail him with in the future. "Steve- tell me about your dreams."

"I sleep, and they talk to me." He answered as seriously as a wasted man could. "And… and… Bucky's there, and Peggy's there, and, and you're there, too!" He described.

Natasha paused slightly, raising one eyebrow. "I'm there? Are your dreams based in the forties?"

"Forty-thousand _million_!" Steve answered, picking at his fingers. "You like to dance- and you kiss me a _lot_."

She cleared her throat. "Oh, do I, now? Am I a good kisser?" She teased, a near-evil smirk on her face.

Steve laughed with very little provocation. "Uh-huh… Sometimes you have this white… thing on your face so I can't kiss you till later." He described. "And you're always.. Uh…" He furrowed his brows as he tried oh so very hard to come up with the word he was looking for. "Oh! Smiling!" He turned to look her directly in the eyes. "Your smile is pretty."

"I think that's enough of this." Natasha decided, putting the remainder of the alcohol out of his reach. "Let's move on to something… not about me- are you a boxers or briefs guy?" Wanting to move this conversation as far away from her as possible- there was no way she was going to acknowledge his words right now.

"Wuh?" Steve muttered. "I don't like… punching people… 'cept for when they're, like, bad an' stuff."

Natasha felt her lips tug up, more out of laughter than anything else. "Not the sport. Take off your pants and show us what underwear you're wearing." She prompted.

Steve blinked slowly and stared at her intently. "I don't know how."

"Come on, Stevie- it's just you and me. Did you need some help?"

"No!" Steve declared, jumping from his chair and knocking it over. "I can… do it by myself." He assured, pulling at his shoes and then promptly losing his balance and falling over.

Natasha gasped and quickly slid to his side. "Shit- you alright?!"

"Ueagh." Steve grunted incomprehensibly. "Where's my sock? Who stole my sock?"

"They're on your feet, Steve. See?" Natasha said, pointing to them.

"Nooo!" Steve groaned, sitting up and scratching his head. "It's gooone! Did you take it?" He demanded, even though the sock was clearly visibly on his foot.

Natasha facepalmed. Now he was being annoying. "How about we get you to bed? We can find your sock tomorrow."

"Promise?" He asked, clumsily standing and looking around the room as though he'd never seen anything more fascinating in his entire life.

Natasha leaned over and turned off the video camera. "Yes, I promise. Now, come on- back to your bedroom."

Steve nodded once and let her lead him. "Okay." He agreed solemnly, as though she were marching him to his death.

She placed a hand on his back, keeping the amused smile off her face- he looked like a little boy who'd just been told off. "You'll feel better in the morning."

"Kay-kay." He said, tripping on his own feet. "Didju know that your hair is really long?"

"I've taken note of its length." Natasha replied calmly. Only twenty normal-sized steps until they got to his room- but with the way he was walking, that looked like it'd take at least a minute.

Steve suddenly stopped short and put a hand on her shoulder. "I love you."

Natasha paused and stared at him for a good second. "Alright, lovebird. We're nearly at your room- no time for stopping," She said, steering him towards his door.

"But…" He protested feebly. "I mean it!" Still, he followed her lead until they reached his door.

"Yeah, you do." Natasha said patronizingly. "Come and find me tomorrow and we'll talk then." She said, holding open the door for him. "Come on, almost there."

"I'm gonna track you… down tomorrow so we can… can…" Steve trailed off blankly, distracted by something in his room. He stumbled inside and immediately faceplanted on the couch. "Can I stay here forever?"

She smiled softly at him. "Of course you can- goodnight, Steve."

Natasha waited a few moments, ensuring that he was alright, before turning away and walking off- she definitely had enough for weeks or even months of teasing.

 **Please feel free to leave us a prompt! See ya'll later, Lovelies!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to everyone who's left us a prompt! Rest assured, we've taken note of each and every one so far, and we are in the process of writing them! Thank you for your patience- the earlier prompt-givers should start seeing their older ones popping up in the next few chapters!**

 **This one's been sitting on the document for weeks, untouched, and was actually the leftovers from one of our stories, Learning to Love, that we scrapped from the storyline once the plot was changed. For those of you who have read Undercover as Steve's Girlfriend and its sequel, Learning to Love (the one this branches off of), you should know what's going on- Matt and Tommy were actually, in our original plans, going to be the ones Steve and Nat adopted. However, there was such high demand for us to have Selina and Chloe adopted instead that we went that way and had Matt and Tommy go to another family. We'd written this little piece before that decision was made, so it's like an AU of our AU.**

 **To read those stories, visit VanillaAshes' profile! The only thing you really need to know from the story, if you haven't read it, is that Matt and Tommy were orphaned after a tornado took away their grandfather, their only living relative, so there's a bit of PTSD involved in Matt, to say the least. (Tommy's a bit more resilient, as he's still fairly little). Steve and Nat were on hand to help the rescue efforts in the aftermath of the storm, and that's how they met the boys.**

 **Anywho, no, it's not a prompt, but this needs to get posted and out of the way, so to speak, so we can continue posting actual prompt chapters. We hope you enjoy!**

Steve struggled not to drop the keys in his excitement as he unlocked the front door, his family standing behind him. _Family_. His grin increased substantially as he rolled that word over in his mind. He loved the sound of it.

"It's so _huge_!" Matthew was exclaiming in surprise. Steve readjusted one of the bags under his arm and finally turned the key in the lock, pushing the front door open. He turned to face Natasha and their two sons. _Sons_.

"Are you ready?" He asked them, voice full of energy that seemed to rub off on the kids as they both started bouncing happily.

"Le's go! Le's go!" Tommy squealed, pulling on Steve's sweater in excitement.

Natasha was holding a few bags in her arms too and gave him a 'will you hurry up' look.

Steve chuckled as he watched Matthew's hand wander to grasp the bottom of Natasha's shirt in nervous excitement. He ran his free hand through Tommy's hair fondly before stepping aside with a flourish. "Welcome home!" He exclaimed as he ushered them through the front door.

Natasha managed to move two of the her bags into her other hand and take Matt's as Tommy ran straight into the house. "Come on, don't you want to see your room?" She tugged him into the house with her.

"Uh-huh!" He replied eagerly, but never made to let go of her hand. Steve found it rather endearing, laughing aloud before placing his armload on the kitchen table and going to catch up with Tommy, who was running from room to room with lots of squealing and insistence that Matty 'look at this!'.

"Wanna see _your_ room, little man?" He asked the four-year-old, scooping him into his arms, eliciting plenty of childish giggles.

"C'n I share wif Matty?" Tommy asked, wiggling all around so he could continue walking around. "Matty, loo'! 's a big table!"

Natasha appeared with Matt behind him, bag free, them hand in hand. "Yeah, so we can eat dinner." She walked up the stairs with Matt first. "Come on, you two- slow-pokes."

Steve and Tommy shared a mischievous look before Tommy shot up the stairs, wriggling between the two before running ahead of them, reaching the landing first. Matt stuck his tongue out at his younger brother but stayed by Natasha's side, eyes roving over every inch of their new home.

Steve decided to answer Tommy's earlier question while there was enough quiet to speak and actually be heard. "No, Tommy, you're not sharing rooms." At the boy's disappointed look, he rushed to add, "Your rooms are, however, right next to each other, and we had a door installed to connect them for you."

"'ich room's mine?" Tommy asked, running into the bathroom.

Natasha let out a chuckle. "That's the bathroom." She helpfully pointed out, leading Matt into the first door on the left. "And this is your room, Matt."

"Woah!" The boy cried in awe. Smiling, Steve stooped over to take Tommy's hand and led him into the second door on the left.

"And this is your room, Tommy." He explained, releasing the child to let him explore a little.

Tommy looked under the bed, then patted his hand on the mattress before running and looking out of the window. "This's ahsome!" He ran back to look under the bed and crawled under it. "There's s'much room!" He exclaimed.

Steve let out a gentle laugh as he watched his new son inspect every inch of the room assigned to him. The boy was so cute! He looked forward to parenting these two, he really did. "Do you like it?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

He poked his head out. "Yeah! But it'd be be'er if I shared wif Matty."

The man sighed good-naturedly and went over to the room's other door, opening it slightly. "I told you about this earlier, didn't I? Or weren't you paying attention?" He didn't quite blame the boy for not paying attention- a new home is very exciting and distracting, after all. When the boy shook his head a little, he beckoned him closer. "Why don't you see what's through this magic door?" He asked playfully, then pulled the door open all the way.

Tommy crawled forward and then ran over to the door. "Matty!" He exclaimed.

"There you are," Natasha spoke and Tommy took off into the room.

Steve followed and watched as Tommy all but jumped on Matt, who was inspecting the window that gave him a nice view of the yard. "How do you like your room?" Steve asked, standing next to the seven-year-old.

Matt gave him a huge smile and pointed at a patch of wildflowers growing off to the side. "I love it! Can we grow more flowers like those so I can look at them all the time?" He asked innocently. Steve laughed again, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Sure thing, Buddy." He answered, turning back to the others. "Now, who's hungry?"

"Me! I am! Me!" Tommy replied, raising his hand excitedly.

Natasha gave a half smile. "How about we all have some sandwiches- it's a bit early for dinner."

Matt put a hand over his stomach, which gave a grumble. He blushed a little and said, "Yes, please." Steve and Natasha shared a little smile before leading the boys back down the stairs.

 **Part Two**

Natasha changed into her pyjamas; it made more sense, seeing as it was nearly impossible to predict when the children would wake up or walk around- unless they handcuffed them to the bed, which was definitely out of the question. Also, if they were attacked, she didn't feel like fighting in the nude- it's not as fun as one might imagine.

She crossed the room, combing through her hair with her fingers before sliding into the bed beside Steve. "Both the kids still in bed?" She asked. It had been difficult to get them both to stay in their beds for the whole night at the same time- she just couldn't work out why.

Steve sighed contentedly. "Yes- _finally_." He was lazily flipping through a book. "Took four bedtime stories and fifty glasses of water, but it's finally done."

"Great…" Natasha rolled her eyes. "Let's hope they go to the bathroom and not wet their beds, then." She wasn't sure if either of them were bed-wetters, but it had only been a few days, so anything could happen.

"Yeah," he agreed with a slight smile, putting the book on the bedside table and turning to her. "I can't believe we… we're parents now." There was a sort of deep awe in his voice that was pretty endearing. "I'm a dad, you're a mom…" His smile grew.

Natasha looked at him. "Do you find that a strange concept too? Because I still can't imagine being a mom, and there's two children down the hall who are legally ours. I think being Auntie Nat is less stressful."

Steve looked at her understandingly. "But being 'Mom' will be so much more rewarding." He said. "And you're doing a fantastic job of it so far."

"Thanks." Natasha replied genuinely. She liked when Steve told her the little things- it helped her, knowing at least one person didn't think she was going to screw up the children's lives- then again, to her surprise, everybody had been really supportive about it. More so than Wanda falling pregnant, which she didn't understand; she never hesitated to support Wanda and Rhodey, but for some reason, others were slightly hesitant. She ran a hand through Steve's hair, which was still wet from when he ran to the car in the pouring rain, which was now a full-blown storm. "And you're a great dad."

If his smile could have grown any more, it definitely would have. "Thank you," he replied. "People keep saying parenting is difficult, but honestly it's too enjoyable to notice the less pleasant parts most of the time."

Natasha chuckled softly, "We've been parents for less than a week- how about we wait a few more weeks before before making a judgement about how difficult it is or is not?" She suggested. Her eyes lightened as the flash from the lightning reflected in her eyes. "Pull the curtain closed, will you?"

Groaning, he pulled himself out of the bed and crossed the room, shutting the curtains before plopping back down beside her. "It's really getting bad out there," he noted. "I had to grab Tommy's stuffed elephant from the car just an hour ago, and it wasn't half as bad then."

"It'll be good for the grass- it's been blazing with heat the last few weeks." Natasha replied. Truth be told, she loved the rain, and the cold weather that came with it. "Let's get some sleep."

"I can agree to that." Steve said rather tiredly, already lying down and pulling the blankets over himself. "Goodnight, Nat."

Natasha pushed the blankets closer to him, being too hot- he was like a damn radiator!- and closed her eyes. However, they opened again as she heard footsteps. "Steve, we have an intruder." She muttered as she hit the lamp on and looked at Matt, who was standing by the door.

Matt looked startled by the sudden lightening of the room, and jumped a little, clenching his eyes shut and pushing some tears from his watery eyes. He looked pitiful, huddled in on himself. "I-I'm sorry," He squeaked, limbs trembling when lightning flashed through the crack between the curtains. "C-can't sleep."

Steve sat up, pushing the blankets back to Nat and sitting on the edge of the bed. "It's alright, Buddy. It's just a storm. Are you scared?" He asked gently. Matt scooted closer, nodding shakily.

"You don't have to be scared, it's just a little lightning- it's probably just Thor messing about." Natasha told him soothingly, hoping that would help him.

Matt bit his lip, clearly holding back more tears, but his efforts were completely abandoned when thunder rolled, making the house shake a little. He let out a whine and seemed to withdraw even further into his self-embrace.

Steve sighed and dropped down onto the floor on one knee, arms open invitingly. This hadn't been the first time since they'd brought the boys home that he'd tried to offer any kind of physical show of affection, but each time Matthew mostly either politely denied him or stiffly stood in his arms (Tommy was all for hanging off of the two adults). This time, however, Matthew launched forward and wrapped his arms around Steve's neck, burying his face in his shoulder. "Thor's scaring me!" He cried, muffled by the fabric of Steve's shirt. Steve shot Nat a slightly worried look mixed with joy at holding his son, arms automatically enveloping the child.

"Everything's okay, Matt. We're both here. You're safe." He soothed, but the boy kept crying. He looked to Nat again. "Can you check on Tommy? Make sure he's alright?"

Natasha slid out of bed with a nod and walked straight out of the room and into the youngest boy's. She quietly stepped over to the young boy's bed and placed the covers over him properly before retreating and returning to her and Steve's room. "He's still asleep." She informed Steve.

He nodded wordlessly and continued comforting Matt, whose crying had lessened slightly. After a few more minutes of the sobs ebbing, he finally spoke. "Matty, you ready to go back to bed?"

The response was immediate. "No!" The child gripped him tighter. Steve shot Nat a 'what do I do now?' look.

"What if Steve or I came with you and waited until you fell asleep?" Natasha asked as she joined Steve crouching on the floor, moving some strands of Matt's hair out of his eyes- they needed to get him a haircut.

Matt peeked at her from Steve's shoulder, eyes wide. "R-really?" He sniffled.

Natasha nodded. "Of course. Just choose which of us you want- but you can only choose one of us, okay?"

The boy nodded jerkily, pulling back but still staying in Steve's arms, wiping his face with his pyjama sleeve. "S-Steve?" It was more a question than a decision, but the way his little hand clung to Steve's shirt was confirmation enough.

"See you in the morning, kiddo." Natasha said softly, wiping his tears and standing up and rubbing Steve's shoulder before sliding back into bed.

Steve was coaxing their oldest son to let go of his shirt so he could grab his hand instead, and the two padded out into the hallway, Matt's sniffling and Steve's reassurances audible the entire time.

Natasha stretched out on the bed, silently glad she wasn't chosen. Her eyes closed and she let herself fall into a light sleep- that was, until she would inevitably be disturbed again; but at least she had some time to herself.

* * *

One week later, Steve looked out the window at eight o'clock that night and smirked when he saw the rapidly forming storm clouds accumulating almost directly on top of their house. An ominous roar of thunder shook the very foundations of the building, making the lights flicker momentarily. "Storm's a'coming." He commented to Natasha, who was reading on their bed. She raised a brow at him but said nothing.

 _Three… two… one…_ "Steeeeve!" Matty cried as he dashed into the room, clad in his favorite Captain America pajamas. The boy launched himself into the man's arms and buried his face in his shirt, not quite crying but definitely rattled.

"What's wrong, Matty?" Steve asked gently, pulling the boy from his chest to look him in the face. He was extremely thankful that Tommy slept like a rock.

"It's the storm again!" Matthew exclaimed, pointing at the window, which was coated with rain and lit with almost constant lightning.

Steve rubbed his shoulders. "Matt, the storm won't hurt you. It's just Thor messing around, remember?" Matthew looked closer to tears, now shaking as another roll of ear-splitting thunder sounded.

"But it's scary!" Steve sighed as frustratedly as he could manage and took the boy's hand, leading him to the window and pushing it open. He leaned out into the cold wind whipping the rain into his face, and he could practically see the disapproval on Natasha's face as the rainwater blew inside onto their clean carpet.

"THOR!" Steve yelled into the tempest, voice picked up by the wind and carried away.

"What're you doing?" Matt asked timidly, confusion on his face. His little hand was tight around Steve's, his knuckles almost white.

"THOR!" Steve cried again. His shirt was plastered to his body by this point.

He let out a laugh as a familiar figure descended from the storm clouds and hovered right outside of the window, Mjolnir spinning in the the right hand like a propeller. Thor was somehow untouched by the raging storm, completely dry but hair still blowing majestically in the wind. Thor came closer to the window and smiled in a friendly manner to Matthew, who was peeking outside with the widest eyes Steve had ever seen.

"Apologies, Young One," Thor boomed, easily heard over the loud wind, "I did not mean to scare you." Matt's jaw dropped open, and he remained speechless. "My storms cannot harm you. You may sleep well-assured." With one last smile and a nod to Steve, which the Captain returned, Thor spun his hammer and launched up into the sky in a blaze of lightning, the storms clearing up almost immediately in his wake.

Steve shut the window and turned to his son. "See? Just Thor messing around."

Matty's jaw was still hanging in shock. "T-that was- _wow_!" He exclaimed, jumping excitedly. He was more willing to get back into bed after that, though he rambled happily about Thor's awesomeness the whole time. "He's, like, the best superhero ever!"

"Woah, hang on, now." Steve interjected as he tucked the boy back into bed. He leaned in closer and whispered, "Don't let your mother hear you talking like that." Matt giggled and nodded.

"But can I secretly think that?"

"Nope. You can secretly think that _I'm_ the best." Steve corrected. The boy groaned and laughed simultaneously.

"But you're so _old_!"

 **Thanks for reading! Be sure to leave us a prompt you'd like to see written!**

 **Good afternoon, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thanks to those of you who requested more jealousy! It's pretty fun to write, although we can't keep doing the same prompts, so we hope this chapter will satisfy all of your jealousy needs for this story! The scenes are almost wholly unrelated, so don't view them as connected in any way- just a collection of random moments :)**

 **As always, feel free to drop us a review and/or a prompt!**

 **Enjoy!**

Steve sighed happily as he walked alongside Natasha, eyeing the stalls as they passed. They were visiting a farmer's market in a nearby small town as one of their few official 'dates'. Usually dates for them consisted of missions, undercover work, and more missions, with the occasional movie-watching, dancing or cooking together. It was a beautiful spring day, the bright green leaves of the tall trees perfectly shielding the pair from the bright sun. Birds were chirping all around, giving an ambiance of peace and serenity. "I love spring in these rural spots." He commented to Natasha, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets.

Natasha nodded slightly. "Yeah, it's weird." She replied, her voice light and breezy.

To Steve, this almost felt like a dream. It was just so.. Perfect. Caught up in the moment, he reached out and hooked his arm through hers. "Maybe we should move out to a small country town."

She hummed in thought. "I think it would be too quiet." She replied, looking around before leaning against him slightly. "I need to hear the traffic and city noise."

He nodded in agreement. "True…"

Suddenly there was a man walking up from behind them. "Hey, Sweetheart, nice ass." He said blatantly to Natasha with a wink.

Steve felt every muscle in his body stiffen in rage. How dare this man be so… crass? Rude? Stupid? Did he not see their linked arms? And yet he still felt the need to comment. "Excuse me, but do you want to shut up?" He objected, shooting the offender a frigid glare.

"Steve." Natasha warned lightly.

The man turned to face them. "I was just payin' the lady a compliment- no need t' be such a prude about it."

Steve bristled. " _That_ was not you giving a compliment. _That_ was you being a fucking pig." He snapped, taking a step closer to the man, pridefully noting that he stood almost a head taller.

"Yeah, well. Whatchu gonna do about it?" The man goaded.

"Steve, leave it." Natasha said, pulling at one of his arms. "He's not worth it."

The man smirked. "Yeah, _Steve_. Listen to your little bitch."

Well _that_ sealed his fate. Natasha's heel quickly collided with the man's cheekbone, sending him sprawling to the ground, cradling his broken face. "Come on, Steve. Your _bitch_ is waiting." She said overly sarcastically, glaring down at the man.

Steve smirked and turned to follow her- but quickly turned back around and launched his foot into the man's crotch, eliciting a satisfying groan of pain from the man. _Then_ he turned and followed Natasha.

"Feel better?" Natasha asked, linking arms with him as she pulled him through the gathering crowd. "I was trying to refrain from making a scene."

Steve smiled sweetly. "Yeah, but making a scene is much more fun."

* * *

Natasha calmly walked through the halls of the CIA, carefully avoiding as many cameras as possible- although, it didn't matter if she was caught on camera, as she was wearing somebody's else's face, so to speak. As she passed other agents, she received a few nods- she had to admit, pretending to be Sharon Carter when you were intending on actually killing the real Sharon Carter was a… unique experience.

She walked into one of the conference rooms and was met with some very, very confused looks. Without hesitating, she threw a knife, which was instantly imbedded in Sharon's stomach. "That's for kissing Steve."

With that, she left the CIA and, subsequently, the country.

* * *

Steve leaned back against the headboard of their bed, a laptop in front of him. However, the screen- displaying an article serving as a _Guide to the Twenty-First Century_ \- didn't hold his attention. His thoughts flew to Bucky, who had just been arrested. He was worried about his friend, to be honest, despite Stark's reassurances that he'd be just fine.

"You're thinking about somebody else, aren't you?" Natasha accused from beside him.

Startled from his thoughts, Steve looked at her in disbelief. "Sorry, what?"

"You're thinking about another person while in bed with me." Natasha stated, before adding, "That's cheating."

"Seriously? I am _not_ thinking about another person- and how would that be cheating, anyway? Telepathic adultery?"

Natasha placed her book on the bedside table with a _thud_. "Now you're _lying_ to me! Fine, if you weren't thinking about anybody, what _were_ you thinking about?" She questioned, slamming the laptop closed on his lap and moving that to the side too.

Oh. He had assumed when she said 'thinking about somebody else' that she'd meant another woman. "Well… I was thinking about Bucky." He admitted.

She growled. "That's even worse!" She exclaimed. "Maybe I should go so you can be _alone_ with your thoughts! Obviously I'm not good enough for you."

" _What?"_ Steve cried. "No! Not like _that_ , you perv!"

"Oh? So, I'm a perv, am I? Because I questioned why my _boyfriend_ wasn't interested in me when I'm not naked or making out with him?" She questioned sarcastically. "I looked at you _three_ _times_ and you didn't notice. I bet you would have noticed if I'd taken off my fucking clothes!"

Steve growled. "Are you kidding me? Who said anything about me not being interested in you?" Unbelievable! "Just because I didn't notice you _looking at me_ doesn't mean I suddenly want to break up with you!"

"Woah, woah! Who said anything about _breaking up?_ " Natasha asked with shock. "I never said that. Wait… do _you_ want to break up with _me_?"

" _No!_ I thought you were threatening to break up with _me_! You were being all jealous about me thinking about Bucky!" Steve defended, sitting up straighter.

Natasha stared at him, open-mouthed, for a second. "I wouldn't break up with you over a few homosexual tendencies- I'm not irrational!"

 _Homosexual tendencies?_ "Are you fucking _kidding me_? I _just_ said it _wasn't like that_! Why would I date you if I was gay?" He demanded.

"I didn't say anything about you being gay, Steve. But bisexual, maybe. And I'm okay with that." She paused. "However… You didn't notice when I wore extra tight leggings the other day, and Sam did; maybe you _are_ gay and in denial- Steve, these are more accepting times."

Steve's jaw was hanging open. "What do you mean _Sam_ noticed?" He accused. "Why are you accepting ass compliments from other men?"

"Well when my own _boyfriend_ doesn't notice, my self-esteem goes down slightly. He was only helping." Natasha pointed out. "So, why didn't _you_ notice? Were you thinking about Bucky then, too?"

"Dear fucking _God_! He's just been arrested, Natasha! Why _wouldn't_ I be thinking about him? I'm worried!" Steve cried.

Natasha looked him straight in the eye. "So… you're saying that you thought about him last night while we were having sex?"

Steve almost choked on his own spit. "What? _No_! Why _would_ I?" He paused. "Were _you_ thinking about him last night?" Why else would she bring up that specific example?

"Steve, I don't think about anybody but you during sex- I mean, sure, Bucky is hot, but I don't think about him in that way. I have self control."

" _And I don't? And Bucky IS NOT HOT!_ " Steve snapped, feeling the redness in his face increasing every second.

She rested a hand on his shoulder. "No need to overreact. I shouldn't have said that." She said calmingly.

"I AM NOT OVERREACTING!"

"It's not like I think Sam is hot- because I don't; and I spend more time with him. So what's the big deal?" Natasha questioned.

Steve frowned. "Why are you spending more time with _him_? And if you don't think he's hot, why are you accepting ass compliments from him?"

She groaned. "He _lives_ in the same building as us. And I _didn't_ accept a compliment, I just noticed him staring at my ass a few times!" She defended. "Why are you getting so irrationally jealous over this?"

He stared at her. "You _started_ it!" He cried. "And why didn't you break Sam's neck for him staring at your ass?"

"We agreed to _not_ kill the recruits." Natasha reminded him. "And that's not what we're talking about- we're talking about you not being attracted to me anymore!"

"Since _when_? I have _never_ said anything of the sort!"

She sighed. "See? You weren't even paying attention to what this _whole_ conversation has been about!"

"What? That I didn't notice you fucking _looking_ at me? I was distracted!" Steve snapped.

"And _that's your excuse!?"_ Natasha seethed. "Don't you even think about _my_ feelings?"

"So you're mad about me for not actively thinking about you when we were in bed together- even though you were reading a book and I was on my laptop? We weren't even _talking_!" Steve exclaimed, wondering how this had become some tangled mess.

"Have you ever thought that I _wanted_ to talk? You've been so damn distracted lately that I feel like you don't actually have time for me- it all seems so forced and… I feel like I'm just in your way or just not important anymore."

 _Ah, so that's what this giant squiggling maze of a conversation-slash-argument-slash-interrogation was about._ "Nat, you're the most important person in my life." He said honestly. "I'd be nothing without you."

"Really? Because you've known Bucky _longer_ and… would literally go to the end of the earth for him. How do I compare to an eighty-year friendship?" Natasha questioned.

"Technically it's about a _twenty-_ year friendship, considering we were apart for a majority of the century." Steve corrected. "And one of those twenty years was spent with him on a murderous rampage. Nat, he's my best friend, yeah- but you're the person I love. Not Bucky." He assured.

Natasha sighed, almost scoffing. "You still shouldn't be thinking about him when we're in bed together- that should be reserved for _just me and you_."

"Alright, alright." Steve said in surrender. "I'm sorry."

She nodded and picked up her book. "Thank you."

Steve grabbed her book and tossed it aside. "Ah, no. After all of that, we're totally making out."

"Fine, but I'm on top."

 **And there we have it, folks! As jealous as jealous can be! :) We hope you enjoyed, and more chapters are coming soon- we've gotten a few**

 **more finished, so they'll be uploaded in the next few days!**

 **Have a good day, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	9. Chapter 9

**A big thanks for a vaguer prompt from MESPX13 and a very detailed prompt from Sportfan64, where Nat gives birth to twins James Rogers and Sarah Rogers (we couldn't think of a way to casually incorporate her lengthy middle names, so we just did the first name). We also changed the origins of Sarah's name, as it could be either Steve's mother's name or his daughter's canon name, depending on the universe, as there are multiple AUs on it. Overall, this was a very deep one we enjoyed writing, but some details from the prompt had to be tweaked slightly. We hope you enjoy it anyway, Sportsfan!**

Natasha stared at the mirror in disbelief and horror for a long time, one hand tenderly over her slightly expanded stomach. She noticed the physical change in her body a few days ago while Steve was on a mission- however, he was now back and would eventually notice. She considered disappearing for a while, until things sorted themselves out, as she didn't want Steve to go through the heartache that was inevitably going to come along with this pregnancy- but she didn't want to lose him or create friction between them.

Natasha quickly pulled her shirt down and over her stomach before zipping up her hoodie, effectively hiding the bump- although she was sure she mostly just looked a bit fat- when she heard a knock on her door. Before she even pulled it open, she knew who it was.

"Steve," she greeted with a genuine smile.

He ducked his head and greeted her with a long kiss as he made his way into the room. As the door closed behind him, he pulled back. "Hey, Nat. Did you miss me?" He asked cheekily.

Natasha laughed softly, it coming out slightly strained. "You just left- didn't have time to miss you."

"What's wrong?" Steve questioned almost instantly, stepping back to look at her up and down, obviously searching for injuries. Clearly he had picked up on her tone.

"Nothing. I'm fine." She sighed- she had to tell him now. "Steve, sit down- there's something I want to talk to you about." Indicating to her bed, he sat down. "A lot happened to me whilst I was in the Red Room, and there was a graduation ceremony which made it impossible to have children. They didn't use any official westernized procedures or medicines, which means that while I am technically able to fall pregnant, I am unable to keep the baby." Steve paled and gently put a hand on her knee.

"That's horrible, Nat. I'm so sorry." The pure sincerity of his tone was touching. He meant it from the bottom of his heart. She took a breath and carried on.

"Usually, I would miscarry rather quickly, nothing different from just getting my period - but I always know." She paused. "There was one incidence when I went full term with the pregnancy, but she was born stillborn. I've had everything checked when I joined S.H.I.E.L.D, and there is nothing they can do- which I've accepted."

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked, seeming to have put half of the puzzle together but unable to figure out the rest.

Natasha stared at him for a long while, hoping he'd come to the realization himself, but he remained silen. After what she'd just said, neither of them wanted her to say the inevitable words. "I'm pregnant."

Steve nodded, looking down slightly for a second before looking back up. "Wait, you're pregnant _still_?"

She nodded warily.

"Then there's a chance that…"

"No. Steve… there's not a chance. Don't do that to yourself; don't have hope. It just ends in heartache. The only reason I told you was because I'm showing and…."

"You're showing? How far along are you?"

Natasha sighed- she should have just disappeared until the baby miscarried. "I'm not sure- three months, I suppose."

Steve's distraught expression gradually lightened. "You mean the baby is still alive, growing and developing, and has survived three months already? What if there's a chance of this pregnancy going to term and the baby living?" He asked hopefully. "We should talk to a doctor! You'll have to eventually stop attending training, of course, and you'll be put on bedrest later on…" He said, slipping into a sort of half-Captain mode in which he calculated and planned the best actions to take but also retained the dreamy look and sound of an expecting father.

"Stop. Just… stop." Natasha said, exasperated, burying her head into her hands as she took a deep breath. "No, just no. I am _not_ going to go through this again, so just stop. I only told you… out of a sense of duty- it's impossible for us to have this baby, even if I did want it- which I _don't_."

Steve didn't back down, although his tone became gentler. "Natasha, I love you. I would _adore_ having a child with you. I know it must have been traumatising to go through what you have, but please have a little faith. I want to give this baby a chance." He said calmly, eyes pleading.

Natasha glanced at him. "Fine, but when it all goes to shit, go crying to Sam- I can't help you with that." She practically growled, annoyed that he wanted her to go through all of this again.

A smile, full of joy but stained with sadness, broke out on his face. "No, if it all goes south, I'll be right here. But it _won't_ go badly- not if I, Captain America, have anything to say about it!" His voice got thunderously dramatic, booming not unlike Thor's.

"I'm Russian." Natasha stated before walking from the room.

* * *

Steve's day had started out pretty normally- he'd gotten up to find Natasha had already woken, he'd taken a shower, and then he'd gone for a small ten-mile jog before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. However, any sense of normalcy was soon launched out the window when he heard something never before heard by any mortal- Natasha, sobbing hysterically. Alarmed, he sprinted the rest of the distance to the kitchen and burst in.

He came to a sliding stop beside a very confused-looking Vision, his gaze resting on Natasha, who was standing by the trash, face totally blotchy and red, coated in tears, twisted into a distraught expression. "Nat, what's wrong?" She wasn't clutching at her abdomen, so he hoped against hope that this wasn't an issue with the baby's health.

"This _sorry excuse for an attempt at being a human_ **destroyed** a perfectly good piece of cake for _no_ reason!" Natasha accused, pointing at Vision.

"I assure you, I was just disposing of an old piece." Vision defended, hands up placatingly.

Steve put a hand on his shoulder. "Just let me handle this." He advised. "Natasha, let's just get you a new piece of cake. We've got a few extra." He said gently.

"I don't want a _new_ piece of cake! I wanted _that_ bit of cake!" Natasha sobbed, panting. "I don't even know why I'm crying, but _I know_ you can't replace cake!"

"Technically, it is possible. These pieces of cake are practically identic-" Vision started, but was cut off when a fork was thrown past his head.

"Ugh!" Natasha cried in frustration and stormed out of the room.

Steve caught Vision's completely befuddled look, shrugged, and followed after his pregnant girlfriend.

* * *

Natasha sat up on the doctor's table, refusing to lay back right now until it was necessary. She couldn't believe that she had allowed Steve to talk her into this stupid appointment- just a way to remember what will be lost. Although, he made a very valid point about her emotions going haywire, and making sure that there wasn't anything else wrong was a good idea. She looked over at Steve and could _feel_ his excitement. "Sit down- you're making me anxious."

"Sorry." He apologized almost instantly, taking a seat beside her but still tapping his foot irritatingly. "I just can't wait to learn a little more about the baby."

"Steve, I made you _promise_ to not get your hopes up." Natasha reminded him, sighing. She looked up at the doctor walked into the room.

"Mr and Mrs. Rogers?" He asked.

"Close enough." Natasha muttered, not caring to correct him on the fact that she and Steve were _not_ married and her last name was _not_ Rogers.

"I'm Steve, and this is Natasha." Steve introduced as the doctor started getting the ultrasound equipment ready.

"Nice to meet you- I'm Doctor Sportz." He shook Steve's hand before turning to Natasha. "If you could please lie down on the bed and lift your shirt to expose your stomach..." He guided.

Natasha laid back on the bed, not even pretending to be excited for this, and lifted her shirt up to her bra.

"This will be cold." The doctor warned before squirting the cold gel onto her exposed skin and pressing the wand against her stomach.

Within a few seconds an extremely fast heartbeat appeared.

Steve looked absolutely awestruck. "That's the baby's?" He asked the doctor, who nodded. "Wow. That's… amazing."

"Oh." Doctor Sportz muttered.

Natasha looked up at him, then glancing at Steve, slightly alarmed, already expecting something to be wrong, but hoping that it would be announced while Steve was with her. "What's wrong?" She questioned suddenly.

Steve frowned. "There's something wrong?"

"Oh, no, nothing wrong. Sorry about the worry." The doctor assured, confusing Natasha. "Congratulations- you're expecting twins!" He moved the wand and pointed to the screen. "Here's the first baby, and here's the second."

Natasha stared at the screen with slight awe- _two_? Two babies. That wasn't something she had expected.

"Wait, seriously?" Steve asked, slack-jawed. "Nat, we're… we're having twins!" He had apparently completely forgotten about his promise to not get his hopes up.

She sighed. "Thank you, Doctor. Is there anything else?"

"Would you like some images?" Natasha nodded. The doctor took a few pictures and printed them. "While we wait for them to print, any questions?"

"Steve, any questions?" Natasha asked, wiping her stomach clean of the gel and pulling her shirt down.

"Is everything looking healthy, Doc?" Steve asked the doctor, who nodded.

"Everything looks to be in good working order. No complications that I can see. Babies' vitals are good, too." Doctor Sportz informed them optimistically.

Natasha zipped her jacket- which was Steve's jacket that she had 'borrowed'- and waited by the door. But she ventured back in to collect the ultrasounds, not wanting Steve to accidently leave them behind.

"That's great!" Steve was saying. He allowed Natasha to lead the way out. "I'll set up the next appointment on the phone." He called back to the doctor, who nodded in understanding. Once they had left the building, Steve squeezed Natasha's hand. "So far, so good."

She nodded, lacing fingers with him. "So far." She repeated, less optimistically than he had. "Twins." She muttered in disbelief- she was still trying to get her head wrapped around that.

"It's just one miracle after another." Steve said wistfully, his lips turning up in a smile. "Everything will work out, Nat. One way or another."

"Don't delude yourself, Steve. It'll only make things harder." Natasha said, pulling her hand out of his and walking back to the car.

* * *

Steve walked into his room, picking up his towel and drying the sweat on his head. He froze when he heard soft cries coming from _his_ bathroom and slowly ventured inside. "Nat? Are you alright? What's wrong?" He asked, fearing the worst when he saw her still in her pajamas with the taps on as she sat in the bathtub.

"It's just…" She placed a hand on her stomach, looking down with tearful eyes.

Steve felt his heart break.

"They moved. I… I felt them move." She continued, a distraught awe in her voice. "They moved." She repeated, her voice growing softer.

Steve's heart did a small leap. "Really?" He wanted to say 'that's great', but got the feeling that that was the wrong thing to say in this situation. He slowly moved closer and crouched beside the tub, gently rubbing her shoulder. "What are you feeling right now, Nat?" He asked gently.

She wiped her puffy eyes. "It's… strange… and-" She drifted off, looking at him. "I don't want to lose them."

Well if _that_ didn't stab him in the heart fifty different ways. "Natasha…" He leaned over the edge of the tub and pulled her into a hug. "We're not going to lose them. We're going to be parents soon, and if any health issues arise, we'll fight tooth and nail for our children. We'll try our absolute hardest." He couldn't guarantee that they would live- he didn't control death- but he did mean it about fighting for their babies.

"And if our hardest isn't good enough?"

He squeezed her tighter. "Then we'll deal with that- together."

End

Steve carefully padded down the hall and paused outside of Nat's door, awestruck by the sounds coming from her room- Natasha was singing, and her voice was beautifully melodious. He leant on the wall next to the door and simply listened, knowing that if Natasha had any indication of his presence, she would most likely stop singing. He wondered why she was singing- she wasn't usually one to hum or sing while she worked, and she didn't tend to sit on her bed and just belt out tunes for the heck of it.

She stopped. "I can hear you breathing," she called.

Steve sighed in defeat and opened the door, crossing the room and sitting beside her on the edge of her bed. She was almost six months pregnant, and it showed- her stomach was huge and seemed to cause a small difficulty in the way she sat, meaning her posture had changed slightly. He put an arm around her shoulders and rested his cheek on her head. "You've got a lovely voice." He murmured into her hair.

"Shut up." Natasha muttered, leaning against him. "I can't wait for this pregnancy to be over- I don't remember being this big before."

He chuckled. "You look beautiful." He assured, sighing contentedly. He rested one hand on her belly. "Are they active today?"

"They won't stop." She groaned, glaring down. "Although, my singing seems to settle them."

Ah, so that's why she was singing. He found that to be touching- it was just such a motherly thing to do. "That's good. Please, don't let my being here stop you." He gestured for her to resume her song.

Natasha shook her head softly. "They've calmed down- I don't need to continue. Maybe later."

Steve chuckled. "Fine, fine." They sat there silently for a few minutes before he said, "This feels so surreal."

"Like a dream." She added wistfully.

"The best dream in the world." He agreed. "Everything just seems so… perfect."

"All dreams must come to an end." Natasha responded, closing her eyes. "We have to wake up eventually."

"Hey now," Steve said sternly, squeezing her tighter. "Don't start thinking like that. Everything's working out just fine so far. We're over halfway there."

She sighed. "Yeah. We Are."

"You'll see. Just three months from now we'll be sitting here, on this bed, with two little _healthy_ bundles of joy in our arms." Steve asserted, meaning every word.

"I love how naive you are- you're making it sound like we could actually be normal." Natasha whispered. "It's a lovely fairytale." She added, drifting off to sleep.

Steve frowned slightly, silently promising to make sure that the fairytale became their reality.

* * *

Natasha paused, taking a few quick breaths at the painful twinges in her stomach. She waited for them to pass, yet again, before continuing trying to force herself to eat some more cereal. Her eyes flickered up to Steve and Bucky as they walked into the room and quickly planned her escape route- she knew exactly what Steve would insinuate.

"-and she _still_ wanted to keep going!" Steve exclaimed. What? "Four punches to the face and she kept getting right back up from the mats." Ah, that made more sense than the possibility of Steve talking like a _normal guy._

"Geez!" Bucky said, wide-eyed. "That's impressive."

"Oh, hey, Nat." Steve suddenly greeted, seeming to have just noticed she was there. "How're you doing? You seem tense."

Natasha nodded stiffly. "Fine. Just… eating breakfast."

He came closer while Bucky went to the fridge, shooting them amused looks from time to time. "And how are the babies today?" Steve asked, sitting down beside her and putting a hand on her stomach. He frowned. "You're _really_ tense."

"They're a pain." She replied cryptically- definitely too close to the truth.

He nodded slowly, but that wrinkle in his brow never smoothed out. "But it's not anything new? Nothing we should see a doctor about? We've made it this far, Nat- we can't let any little thing take them away now." He said, eyes imploring.

Natasha groaned; it was more out of annoyance, but the contractual pain in her stomach wasn't helping. "It's just braxton hix- it'll pass. There's no point in making a big deal."

His eyes widened, and Bucky froze slightly from across the room. "You mean those early contractions? Doesn't that mean you're in labor?" Bucky asked, concerned. Steve scooted closer to Natasha, putting a hand on her shoulder worriedly.

"How long have you been having them?" He asked. "Because labor generally starts earlier with twins than it does during a normal pregnancy, remember? Could you be in labor?"

"I'm not… I think I would know if I was in labor- don't you think?" She asked stubbornly. But at this stage, she was actually thinking that she _did_ need a doctor, and decided to answer his question truthfully. "And… a few hours."

If he had looked concerned before, it paled in comparison to the current expression on his face. "Nat, you've gotta be in labor! Even if you're not, we're still going to see a doctor right now." He said, helping pull her to a stand.

She pulled away from him. "I can stand on my own, Steve!" She snapped. She hated being told what to do or treated like she was made of glass- everybody had been getting increasingly more careful and patronizing with her and it was honestly driving her crazy. "I'll go with you to visit the doctor- but not because you told me to."

A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Of course not." He agreed. "The fact that my name literally has _Captain_ in it means nothing toward my authority." He turned to Bucky. "I'll keep you updated."

Bucky nodded and watched them go.

"You name is Steve Rogers, not Captain fucking America." Natasha grunted. "Yeah, can we move faster?" She asked rather urgently.

He shot her a worried look and picked up the pace. "Are you okay?"

"Doctor now. Talking later."

"Yes, Ma'am."

* * *

Steve felt both overjoyed and extremely worried as he sat by Natasha's side, his hand in hers, trying to offer as much support as was possible through physical contact. It didn't seem like it even registered, though, as Natasha was too busy cursing out the nurses in her pain. Sure, the maternity ward staff was most certainly used to being insulted by laboring mothers- however, Natasha had a certain way with words that could make fully-grown men tear up. As such, two nurses had already switched out, leaving the room in tears, letting their comrades take over the undoubtedly grueling work.

"You're doing great, Nat." Steve reassured for the billionth time. That was basically his only purpose in life, as of this moment- to be the personification of reassurance.

"I'm doing great, am I? Do you know that from experience?" Natasha cried out. "Will you hurry up and get these babies OUT OF ME!" She screamed.

"Okay, push, in three… two.. one."

Natasha grunted, her hand gripping onto Steve's intensely. "I'm PUSHING!"

"Yeah, can't you see she's _pushing_?" Steve added. He couldn't help that his natural instinct was to side with Natasha when she was yelling- even if it made him seem like a total asshole to the doctor- who had become the verbal punching bag, and who was now looking at him strangely. He then turned back to Natasha and tenderly brushed a strand of hair from her sweaty forehead. "We're almost there, Nat. Just keep it up, keep going. Soon it'll be over, soon we'll be parents." He promised.

"Stop being such a fucking optimist." She screeched before her face went slack with relief. There was a deafening silence for four seconds after the first baby had been born and Steve felt his heart sink- but then, just when he was fearfully sure there would be no noise ever again, a blessed shriek split the air and the nurses chuckled in slight relief. Steve felt all of his muscles go slack at the pure shock of it- the baby was _alive_. It took him a few blissful seconds to gather up the presence of mind to look to Natasha to see her reaction.

Natasha's head was craned up, her face filled with absolute shock, bewilderment and… horror? "That's not possible." She muttered, her voice barely coming out as a rasp.

Steve took her hand and pretended not to notice that his was shaking just as hard as hers. "But it's real." He assured, a smile threatening to split his face in two. "You hear that?" He prompted, referring to the continued screaming of a newborn, disgruntled at being ejected from the familiar warmth of the womb. "That's our child. _One of_ our children. Alive."

One of the nurses came over. "It's a girl." She informed them with a huge smile before hurrying back over to where several other nurses were checking the baby over. Steve felt numb, almost. He- _they-_ had a daughter. A little girl.

"A girl?" Natasha muttered, disbelief still being the most prominent emotion on her face.

"A girl." Steve confirmed, squeezing her hand, trying to still its shaking but not quite being able to.

"Miss Romanoff, we need you to start pushing again." The doctor stated. "Baby Two is in position."

She shook her head. "No. I'm okay. I don't want any bad news… the baby is alive- we can wait until tomorrow to deliver the next one." She decided stubbornly, trying to look around the nurse.

The doctor looked almost pitying for a second. "Unfortunately, that's not up to any of us- this baby is coming whether you want it to or not. Please just start pushing so there will be less risk of complication."

Steve cupped Natasha's face with one hand and looked her in the eyes. "Nat, please. After this, you're done. Promise. How about if it's bad news… they won't tell you. Okay? I know you'll know, but nobody will say anything. Alright? If worse comes to worse, I'll tell you." Because sometimes hearing the bad news from a stranger could be worse than just knowing what the bad news was.

Natasha looked away from him, but the way her hand gripped his, he could tell that she was pushing.

"You're doing great." He encouraged genuinely, as calmly as he could. He leaned in closer to her and whispered, so only she could hear, "Thank you."

"I'm trying to concentrate." Natasha scolded.

"Deep breaths." The doctor instructed, getting into position with nurses flanking her on either side. "Now I want you to take a break for a second- stop pushing, breathe… Alright, push again. Hard." Steve watched with bated breath as Natasha obeyed. Minutes later, the doctor informed them that the baby was crowning.

"You hear that, Nat? Almost done." Steve said optimistically, squeezing her hand supportively.

Natasha glared at him as she growled in pain and twisted his hand and arm painfully backwards.

Steve tried his absolute hardest not to shriek like a little girl at the pain, simply wincing but refusing to pull his hand from hers- receptive to it or not, Nat needed him by her side, offering support. He allowed his lips to pull into a smile as their daughter let out another loud cry, probably annoyed that she wasn't being fed yet. He couldn't wait to meet her.

"Good, good. And, there's the head- now the shoulders… and Baby Two is free!" Steve would have been able to tell as much without the doctor telling them simply by the way Natasha instantly relaxed and fell limply to the bed. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"You did great, Nat, you're done, you did great." He muttered to her, feeling inexplicably tired.

"I'll break your nose if you say another stupid word." Natasha warned bitterly.

Steve smiled at her anyway and then realized the doctors and nurses were still scurrying around. He noticed one of them picking up their daughter, which quietened her, and that was when he realized exactly what was going on- their second child hadn't made a sound. "What's going on?" He demanded.

"Sir, stay back."

"No, tell me. Is the baby okay?" He demanded, only to be stopped by a nurse.

"Get him out of here."

Steve tried to fight the nurses, but in his state he was easily pushed from the room and asked to wait.

He instantly began pacing right outside of the door, straining to hear what was happening but not being able to pick up anything of importance. Frustrated, he let out a growl and wished he could at least be with Nat.

He almost collapsed to his knees when, ten minutes later, the door opened and a nurse escorted him back in. People were no longer frantically darting around the room and hurried words were no longer being exchanged. He anxiously searched the room for any signs of the children before he finally noticed them in the most obvious place- in Natasha's arms, bundled in pink and blue blankets, respectively. Awestruck, he quickly made his way to her side and knelt to get a better look at their faces from beside her. "They're… okay?"

"Yes. Two perfectly healthy little babies. Little girl and little boy. Want to hold one of them?" Natasha asked, looking up at him.

Oddly numb, yet simultaneously overwhelmed with emotion, Steve nodded mutely and carefully accepted the pink bundle of newborn that she passed to him. He felt like his movements were a bit _too_ cautious and delicate, but he was afraid that one wrong move would break his daughter. He stared down at her little face, mouth hanging open. They were both _alive_. He and Natasha were parents. Stunned, he looked back up to Natasha, who was openly taking in every detail of their son's face with a plethora of emotions flickering on her own. "Nat… they're both alive." He said, voice barely a whisper.

She paused her examination to fix him with a wide-eyed look. "I… I know." She replied, looking completely unsure as to what to do now. Steve gently adjusted the eldest twin's little yarn cap to see if she had any hair- she did, although the little wisps were near impossible to fully see.

"I just… I've waited for this moment for months, but now that it's finally here… it feels unreal." He said, admiring a little nose that was sure to turn out identically to her mother's.

"I've waited years for this. To have children. My whole life, really." She let out a faint chuckle. "I made an agreement with a friend in the Red Room, that if we had children, we'd name one after each other. And she actually looks like a Sarah."

"Sarah…" Steve muttered, testing the sound of it. He decided that he liked it. "Hello, Sarah." He said, rocking the baby a little bit. She made a little grunt and smacked her lips, and Steve wished more than anything that his phone hadn't died so he could record this. "What about him?" He asked then, gesturing to the baby Natasha was cradling. "Unfortunately, none of my old war buddies made me promise to name my child after them."

Natasha set a glare on him. "I was _nine_." She defended before her gaze softened and dropped down to her bundle of blue. "And that doesn't mean you can't name him after one of them." She pointed out.

Steve mentally flickered through all of them- Timothy, Gabe, Jim… He chuckled at the thought of naming his son Howard- after all, they had been friends, but he knew Tony wouldn't like that. Then he smiled at his own stupidity and said confidently, "James."

She nodded. "Sarah and James- such normal names."

Steve laughed. "Normal names for children who are most certainly going to be anything but normal."

 **And that's a wrap! Note: we got a prompt from a guest for a specific parenting scene, so we're asking you all for prompts for a collection of oneshots of parenting situations (twins ages newborn and up) that we'll put together for one of the upcoming chapters so we can exhaust the crap out of the twins!verse and we can then move on to other prompts. Thank you all!**

 **-Violet**


	10. Chapter 10

**Special thanks to Angelalex242, who asked for Vision analyzing Steve and Nat's relationship so he can duplicate it on Wanda! This one is an older one, so, sorry it took us so long to get this up! We hope you like it!**

Vision never should have asked Sam for relationship advice. Sure, Sam was usually his go-to guy for advice on most things, but Vision really should have known better than to bring up his own relationship with Wanda when Sam was feeling grumpy about his own lack of a girlfriend. He came to these conclusions as he half-listened to Sam's long-winded rant about life being unfair. He only really paid attention when Sam was suddenly saying, "I mean, seriously- your relationship isn't even real!"

Vision didn't feel intense emotion that often, but this was one of those rare times when he felt… not angry, exactly, but definitely indignant. "Excuse me, in what aspect is my relationship with Wanda not 'real'?" He broke in while Sam was between words.

"What? Well, it's not, like, emotionally strengthened like… like Steve and Nat's! You're like a robot, and being able to access Google in your mind isn't going to help you with relationship advice!" Sam answered before seeming to compute what he was implying. "Oh, Vis, no, I didn't mean that. I just meant that… Nah, it was a stupid thing to say. Forget it." He waved it off. Vision cocked his head curiously but decided to let it go to avoid making this more uncomfortable than it already was.

Still, Sam did have a point. Vision knew he wasn't providing the most ideal relationship for Wanda, due to his lack of understanding of how to treat one like a girlfriend and his general habit of slight detachment. Steve and Natasha… they definitely had something that he and Wanda were lacking. Things had been tense between them lately, which had been the cause of Vision going to Sam in the first place.

Vision, being a creature of limited emotional attachments, wasn't willing to let their relationship deteriorate any further- he couldn't imagine being with anyone else. Thus, he was willing to do almost anything to fix things- even if that meant intensely studying Steve and Natasha until he finally understood.

* * *

Vision, if nothing else, was great at being stealthy. Watching the couple interact without being detected was a rather simple task. He hovered observantly in a far corner, hidden by one of the walls, and watched as Steve and Natasha sat together in the kitchen. So far, they weren't doing anything explicitly romantic- just eating cereal.

"Nat, why do you insist on eating old lady cereal?" Steve suddenly teased. Vision took note that teasing with a positive tone seemed to be a common behavior amongst significant others.

"I'm just acting _your_ age, old man." Natasha replied with a smirk.

Steve made an apparently fake offended look. "But where's the fun in that? There are bright colors and fruity flavors in mine!" He insisted. "Yours is just… bland. Slop. How do you eat that?"

Natasha's face glowed with evil. "I can show you exactly how one eats, if you need a demonstration."

"Nat, come on, now… Nat, no! Noooo!" Steve cried quite dramatically as she shoved a spoonful of her cereal all over his face. "I'm hit! I can feel the elderly-ness setting in… I crave prunes! Nooo! What have you done to me, you monster?" He cried. Vision couldn't see the appeal in one pretending to be injured by something so trivial, but he was surprised to see Natasha actually _smiling_ at the behavior. Maybe one was _supposed_ to act like a child around one's girlfriend?

* * *

Vision carefully set the two bowls on the table, one in front of Wanda, another for himself. He filled her bowl with the cereal he'd seen Natasha eating earlier, then filled his own with Steve's. He sat down next to her and asked, "How do you eat cereal?" That was childlike, right? He'd modified the script he'd taken from Steve and Natasha's conversation to hopefully have better impact.

Wanda looked questioningly at the cereal she had been given and then at him. "Oh, you just put it on a spoon and into your mouth, like other food." She said, eating some from her bowl as an example.

Vision panicked slightly- she hadn't followed the script! She wasn't supposed to actually eat it! Thinking fast, he blurted, "I'll show you!" And took a fistful of her cereal and splashed it all over his face.

Wanda just stared at him with utter shock, frozen in her seat, before quickly picking up a napkin. "No, Vis, no, that's not how you eat." She said softly, cleaning his face.

He sighed. His plan had failed.

* * *

More determined than before, Vision watched closely as Steve and Natasha sat on the couch, watching a movie. When it was over, Steve stretched and leaned his head on top of Natasha's. "I dunno what to think… that girl totally wasn't worth both of those guys fighting over her." He commented.

"Am I worth being fought over?" Natasha asked, looking up at him, playing with his fingers with one hand.

Steve smiled. "Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself? You're totally smoking hot, and you've got a personality like gold." He complimented. Vision took note of that line should he need to use it later.

Natasha smirked. "Thank you; if any guy so much as looks at me, I'm expecting you to knock them out." She decided, placing a kiss on his jawline. "Understood?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Steve replied, leaning over to press a kiss on her lips. Vision made his exit then- he had enough now.

* * *

Vision gave Wanda a nervous smile when she came into the living room, where he'd set it up for a movie almost exactly as Steve and Natasha had. He made sure they were sitting in the same positions as the other couple as well, and he was pleased to note that things seemed to be going well. When the movie was over, he started going through the new script. "My opinion on this movie is slightly undecided… the woman those two men fought over certainly wasn't worth their efforts." He said, feeling more comfortable in paraphrasing Steve's sayings to better fit his own speech pattern than just outright copying and sounding like an imbecile.

"That's a bit harsh, Vis. She was kind and compassionate - any guy would be lucky to date her." Wanda replied, looking up at him curiously. "What makes her not worth their efforts?"

Vision panicked at yet another break in his set script. What would Steve do? Maybe Vision could channel Steve enough to figure out the correct thing to say? "It's possible my observation was slightly inaccurate, as I was comparing her to you without realizing." He replied rather smoothly, although he was sure that if he could blush, he would be.

"Oh?" Wanda asked, perking up slightly. "In what way?" She inquired.

Vision internally jumped as he realized he'd said the right thing for once. He could keep this going! "Well, the first thing that caught my attention was that she is significantly less aesthetically pleasing than you. She also doesn't possess your intelligence, nor your level of kindness and compassion."

Wanda laughed, blushing slightly as she settled back against him. "Thanks, Vis. That's sweet of you to say."

He smiled. "And if any other male looks at you, I shall incapacitate them immediately." He added.

Wanda appeared to freeze in his arms and slowly look up at him. "Vision, I don't believe that's the correct way to handle that sort of situation." She said cautiously. "Besides, no males will be looking at me in a way that would require for them to be… incapacitated."

And now Vision had absolutely no idea how to salvage this. "I… don't know what to do now." He murmured, stroking his chin in thought and rising from the couch. "This requires further study. I will get back to you later." And with that, he left Wanda, confused, on the couch.

"Wait… Vis!" She called as he drifted off through the wall.

* * *

Natasha walked out of the bathroom with one of Steve's t-shirts on, and her own workout jogging bottoms and shoes. She laced up her shoes before heading for the door.

"Wait, is that my shirt?" Steve asked from the other side of the room, looking through the drawers.

Nat turned to face him. "Yes, it is." She confirmed simply.

"But you have your own shirts, I only have-"

"I like wearing your clothes- makes me feel closer to you." Natasha interrupted him, planting a kiss on his mouth before walking out.

Steve stood there, slightly stunned but having no objections as he turned back to the drawers in search for a shirt to wear.

Vision, with that fresh in mind, drifted back into his quarters and grabbed one of his high-necked sweaters from his drawer. He then went and found Wanda, who was casually playing a game on her phone in her room. She put her phone down when he phased through the wall, giving him a confused, but not unfriendly, look. He walked up to her and held the shirt up by her face. "Here, wear this." He instructed.

Wanda looked at him, slightly confused. "Wear one of your shirts?" She repeated his statement, taking the shirt from him. She held it against her nose for a moment as she waited for his answer.

"Yes. You'll feel closer to me. Wear it." He repeated, gesturing to the article of clothing. She was sniffing it? What did that mean? Did he produce body odor he wasn't aware of?

She gave him a strange look but pulled the shirt over her head and put it on. It was big on her, so she rolled up the sleeves. "You're right, I feel closer to you already…" She replied, although she still looked very confused. "We could do other things to be closer to one another, if you wanted." She suggested.

Vision raised a brow, slightly befuddled, before answering, "I don't have time to right now," and phasing back through the wall from which he'd originally entered.

* * *

Vision opted to walk around the compound to find Wanda, instead of his usual methods - after all, Steve always manually searched for Natasha and if he didn't find her within seven minutes, would text her. It had only been three minutes when he encountered Wanda in the kitchen putting the dishes into the dishwasher.

"We should spar." He suggested, approaching her. That seemed to be something Steve and Natasha did often enough, so it could possibly be used to further a relationship, right?

Wanda looked up at him. "Oh, not right now, Vis. I have training with Natasha in a few hours and I'd rather just relax - we could always play instruments together; you're getting really good."

But Vision had never seen Steve and Natasha play instruments together. "No, we should spar." He insisted.

"Okay, let me get changed, then." Wanda conceded, looking down at herself as she walked off. "I'll see you in the gym."

A few minutes later, they were both on the mats in the gym, facing each other. Vision saw Wanda getting ready to use her powers and he quickly stopped her. "No, we should do hand-to-hand." He corrected, getting into the stance he'd seen Steve take up often.

Wanda stood there, completely dumbfounded at this suggestion. "Why hand-to-hand? You don't need to participate in that."

"Yes, but we need to spar like Steve and Natasha do." Vision replied. Theirs seemed to be the only way that worked.

"How come?" Wanda questioned. "We are both very different from Steve and Natasha, so we should adapt our training accordingly."

Vision cocked his head. "But this isn't about improving skills- it's a… bonding exercise." He tried his best to explain. "It's how they bond, so I thought…" He trailed off, not sure how to put his thoughts into verbal communication.

Wanda stepped towards him, taking his hand. "We don't need to do the same things as Steve and Natasha to bond." She told him softly.

Now he was very confused. "But when I inquired on how to improve our relationship, Sam told me that our relationship wasn't be real because it wasn't like theirs." He replied.

"He said _what_?" Wanda asked, crossing her arms. "What about our relationship isn't real?" She inquired slightly angrily.

Vision tried to recall Sam's exact reasons. "I believe it is because of my… difficulty with emotion. Being robotic."

"That's it - you are never to listen to advice from him again. Wait here." Wanda ordered, walking straight from the gym.

Vision obediently stayed put and almost winced in sympathy when Wanda started shouting, "SAMUEL WILSON!" as she stormed away. That tone meant he was in serious trouble.

* * *

Later that day, Vision and Wanda were quietly reading on the front lawn, 'enjoying the sunlight', as she had put it. Vision already knew all there was to know about his book, including the author's own life story, but he found the act of reading itself to be calming and distracting. Also, the light breeze that swept gently around them was quite pleasant. Every few minutes he would quickly shoot a glance at Wanda- whether to make sure she hadn't left or to see if she was still entertained, he wasn't sure. But she seemed completely entranced by the novel she was reading, and that alone made him want to smile- an odd sensation, but one he found enjoyable.

"Hey, Vis." Wanda spoke up, turning her head to look at him. "This is better than any of those… Steve and Natasha duplicated moments." She informed him with a smile before returning to her book.

Vision's face crumpled in confusion. "How so?" He asked, wondering how something so simple could possibly be superior to romantic interaction. "We haven't even spoken to each other, and we're merely sitting by each other."

"Exactly." Wanda replied. "Being able to sit with somebody comfortably and not talk is sometimes more important than the need to break any silences with speech." She sat up properly and faced him. "This, right here and now, shows me that _you_ are the one for me."

Now, Vision wasn't one to believe in 'true love' or anything of the sort- he might have been slightly naive and inexperienced in most things pop culture, but even he knew that it was rather childish to believe in something so fairy-tale in nature. Still, he found himself feeling pleased at Wanda's words. "And I feel the same of you." He assured.

Wanda smiled at him fondly before returning to her book once again.

Vision did the same, but first he tentatively reached out a hand and wrapped it around hers. A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips and she squeezed his hand, and Vision knew then that this was highly preferable to anything Steve and Natasha had.

 **Voila! How'd you like it? Please be sure to drop a review, and/or a prompt! I repeat from last chapter (or maybe two chapters ago): We're looking for some prompts for Steve and Nat in different parenting situations with the twins we wrote Nat giving birth to in aforementioned chapter. Thanks to anyone who contributes!**

 **Have a lovely day, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	11. Chapter 11

**This was requested by Anaeifly, who honored us with the prompt of Steve and Nat eating Chinese food when they can't sleep, it becomes a ritual, and they end up sleeping together and figure out how to deal with that. Sorry it took so long to get this written, Anaeifly, but we thoroughly hope you enjoy it!**

 **Also: we still need parenting situation prompts with the twins! Please feel free to drop us one!**

Steve tossed and turned, wishing that, just this once, his mind would stop being cruel and let him _sleep_. Of all the things to become a nightly ritual, it just _had_ to be never being able to fall into a sound sleep. Sure, he'd probably experienced more things to serve as nightmare fuel than most others, and sure, he was a super-soldier and had superior stamina, meaning he needed much less sleep than normal people, but this was going on for so long that it was officially morphing into a problem instead of just another annoyance. He was finally starting to feel the effects of his wakeful nights when his limbs felt heavier during training, making him work that little bit extra just to successfully complete what should have been an effortless defensive move. He was frustrated that he couldn't seem to solve this rather simplistic issue. Was he really so helpless that he couldn't fall asleep of his own accord?

He'd exhausted every option he could think of to make himself pass out. Medications. Breathing exercises. Counting sheep. It just never worked. He was starting to wonder if this would always be a cross he'd have to bear, up until the day his total exhaustion got him killed.

Sighing and deciding that such pessimistic thoughts were unbecoming of him and completely unproductive, Steve sat up with a groan and pulled on some sweats. Maybe a nice walk would clear his hyperactive mind. He aimlessly wandered the halls of the base, running a hand along the wall absently and wishing that one of the few other occupants would miraculously be awake as well so he'd at least have some company in his chronic misery. His socked feet slid noiselessly over the tile floor.

Steve was about to just call it a night and turn back, return to his comfortable mattress and soft sheets that offered him no aid in falling asleep, when he noticed a slim ray of light emerging from the crack under the kitchen door. Had someone forgotten to turn the damn lights off again? Muttering to himself about the pains of having so many lazy roommates, Steve slid the door open and reached one arm through the doorway, flipping the lights off with a small yawn.

"Oi! I can't see in the dark, you know!" Natasha's voice called through the door as something- presumably sharp- was imbedded in the wall where his arm had _just_ been.

"Gah!" Steve blurted in surprise, retracting his arm even further from the lightswitch. After a second of trying to even out his breathing, he cautiously reached back through the doorway and- maneuvering around the throwing knife imbedded in the wall that he almost cut himself on with his blind groping- flipped the lights back on to reveal an irritated Natasha sitting on a barstool at the counter, glaring at him. "Sorry, Nat. Why're you up so late?" He asked tiredly, stumbling over to sit on the stool beside her. "And whatcha got there?" He gestured to the brown paper bag by her arm and the small white boxes surrounding her on the counter.

She looked at him like he was stupid for asking - which question? Probably both. "Chinese food." She replied, answering one of his questions. "Want a bite while you tell me what's keeping you up?"

His stomach grumbled slightly and he blushed. "Uh, sure." He replied, wondering what it would take to get the woman to open up to him as to why _she_ was up so late. He'd already asked once, but she'd conveniently ignored it. Was it a spy thing to avoid answering any questions about your health and/or sleeping habits? Because Barton was similar in that regard. He'd get cautious if the wrong person- aka: anyone other than Natasha- asked what he'd had for dinner the previous night. They were a fairly new team, sure, but they all needed a good lesson in properly trusting your teammates. He accepted a random little white box and opened it, enjoying the smell that wafted up to him. It looked like rice and some sort of meat. His stomach gave an approving rumble and he hastily dug in, not realizing how hungry he'd actually been. "I'm not really sure, honestly… Sometimes it's nightmares, sometimes my brain is just too… active." He admitted.

Natasha nodded in an understanding manner as she took a bite of her food. She hummed before replying. "It's a lot easier to take down a hundred bad guys with one gun than it is to tell your mind to shut up." She spoke almost cryptically.

Steve blinked. That was an unexpected answer. "I suppose…" He took another bite of his food, pondering what to say next. He and Natasha had never really interacted alone too much, but he got the feeling that she wasn't a fan of small talk. That was fine with him, considering he knew almost nothing about modern pop culture and thus couldn't hold up a conversation on a vast number of related topics without embarrassing himself or gaining yet another look of pity from a born-and-raised member of the modern generation. "Why are you up?" It was better to just be direct, he decided.

"Nightmares, too. Usually memories." Natasha replied in between mouthfuls, falling quiet immediately after.

Steve nodded understandingly as snippets of the most recent memories-turned-nightmares flashed through his mind- _Bucky! No! Screamspainbloodwhy?_ He shuddered and shook his head as though that could physically force the thoughts to vacate. It didn't. "Me too. The past isn't kind to those wishing to rest." He reflected sadly, pausing his eating for a moment before taking another bite.

She swallowed her mouthful. "You can say that again." Natasha paused, but didn't continue eating as she looked at him, her eyes quickly- but not discretely- looking him over from head to toe. "Tried sleeping pills once… stabbed Clint in the ass. Haven't been allowed them since."

Steve almost laughed. "I tried them once, too. That was the most psychedelic dream I've ever had, and I woke up feeling more tired than when I went to sleep." He said with a chuckle. "Apparently normal meds have adverse effects on super-soldiers. And super-spies." He added, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"That's peculiar." Natasha muttered. "I presumed they would just be less effective on you."

"That's what I thought, too. I was horribly mistaken." He replied, finishing off his serving before resting his head on his hand. "Well, I'm going to have to hit the hay now." He said with a sigh, rising from the seat. "I think that food really helped." _As did you_.

Natasha shrugged. "You won't be able to sleep; you've just put fuel into your body- and no doubt you've just laid in bed for a few hours. But you're welcome to try- when you give up again, I'll be in the gym." She informed him.

He smiled- maybe the previously untouchable, detached Natasha Romanoff wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

Steve lethargically pulled on his other sock, an explosive yawn bursting from his mouth as he did so. Yet another thus far sleepless night. The image of Bucky, plummeting from the train, a scream for help on his lips, seemed to be branded on the insides of his eyelids. If he could have one wish, it would be for his brain to stop tormenting him.

He'd found that taking small walks around the compound seemed to help tire him out a little, so he was going to try it again to see if the night could still be salvaged. He almost groaned aloud when he found the kitchen lights to be on again- it was unrealistic to believe that Natasha would be awake again, as she needed her sleep much more than he did. It was probably Barton leaving the lights on willy-nilly again. Steve reached through the doorway, hand automatically reaching for the lightswitch, as he'd done many times before, but he was immediately stopped by a piercing pain going straight through his hand- and quickly finding that the pain was caused by a throwing knife being imbedded in it. "What the hell?" He demanded of Natasha, who was watching him boredly.

"I'm using that light." She replied idly. "Wash the knife before you give it back, would ya?"

Steve spluttered indignantly, cradling his hand to his chest and pulling the blade from his flesh. It instantly began to heal, though the blood it left behind was still staining his shirt. He dropped the knife to the floor, not caring about the blood spatter it produced on the otherwise clean tiles, and cautiously made his way to her side. "Why couldn't you _say_ something to me instead of impaling my hand?" He questioned, still feeling slightly offended. He'd thought the spy had had some redeeming qualities, but now…

She shrugged, looking at him. "I apologize - I thought it was Clint again. But you still need to clean that."

He frowned. "My apologies for dirtying your knife with my blood and tissues, My Lady." He retorted sarcastically, distantly wondering if she would slit his throat for saying something like that to her. Some women demanded respect so extremely that they would do insane things to those who didn't listen.

"Apology accepted." Natasha replied with a roll of her eyes. "I've got Chinese again if you wanted some." She offered casually.

Steve grabbed the nearest unopened box and began chowing down on its contents, still mildly glaring at her. "You didn't put poison in it to stop me from putting my feet on the coffee table, did you?"

Natasha returned his previous glare. "I don't poison teammates. And no, I don't care about you putting your feet up onto the table - I'm not your mother."

 _If you were my mother, I'd either be dead or the best-behaved man in the world_. Steve thought with an internal chuckle. "That's a relief." He commented, pausing to chew and swallow his food. "Nightmares again?"

"No." She replied shortly.

He blinked in surprise. "Really? Why are you up, then?"

She stared at him silently for a long moment before finally replying. "It's Chinese night."

"Wait, you have a schedule for this stuff?" He asked curiously.

Natasha gave him a slow nod; it looked like she wanted to explain something with him, but changed her mind. "Yes- Tuesday is chinese food night." She told him.

Steve raised a brow. "But… you were just eating Chinese on Friday." He argued lightly.

"Your point being? Friday night is also my Chinese food night, but I order something different." Natasha replied, tilting her head to the side. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Well someone was grumpy. "No, no. I was just confused, is all." Steve quickly reassured, gazing pensively at the bottom of the empty box of food. "Is there a reason behind all of it? Or do you just like to wait until ungodly hours to eat dinner?"

Natasha once again glared at him, but this time, dropped her chopsticks onto her plate to face him. "Eating time is not question asking time." She informed him point blank. "If there's anything you want to get off your chest - or I do - then we can talk without being judged. However, as you find it strange to eat Chinese food at this 'ungodly' hour - even though you are _eating chinese food at this ungodly hour_ \- I will not be unloading anything on you, including answers to those questions."

Steve held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, I'm sorry. I'm being nosy, I'm sorry. I've finished eating anyway, so I'll head off to bed." He stood and threw away the empty box. "Oh, and thank you for sharing your food with me. I really do appreciate it." He added sincerely.

"I'll be here every Tuesday and Friday." Natasha commented, picking up her chopsticks again and turning away from him.

As silly as it sounded, he was rather excited that she seemed to be inviting him to join her again. It gave him something to look forward to amidst the general crappiness of being an incurable insomniac. He smiled and nodded. "Well, Miss Romanoff, you might be seeing more of me, then."

"Oh. Joy." Came her muttered reply.

Laughing, he turned and left, vowing to make it up to her.

* * *

Steve officially hated breaks in pattern- they never seemed to end well, especially when their pattern was something as good as their four-month-old tradition of meeting up on Tuesdays and Fridays to chow down on Chinese food and share stories and memories while they should have been sleeping. It was such a casual thing, such a constant between them, that Steve, even when he did manage to sleep on the designated nights, was always automatically up by midnight and shuffling over to sit by her side in the kitchen.

He should have known introducing something new to the equation would end in disaster. He had just wanted to be nice and share his beer with her, as earlier that day they'd completed a rather devastating mission with lots of civilian casualties, destruction, the whole package. He hadn't anticipated getting drunk (yes, he'd slipped some of Thor's alcohol into his own drinks to at least take the edge off of his slight depression), nor had he realized that Natasha would get just as drunk.

Sleeping together had been a total accident.

Waking up, head pounding, eyes sore, and naked, with Natasha's arm draped over his chest in sleep, was not how he'd intended for that evening to end. It had taken everything in him not to panic, as he'd initially wanted to, and to cautiously nudge her shoulder until she woke up. "Nat, uh…" He was at a loss for words as to how to explain this.

"Shut up. Can't you see I'm sleeping?" Natasha questioned softly, removing her arm from his chest and pulling the covers over herself more securely.

"Nat, don't you see where… what we…" He trailed off again, slightly embarrassed.

Natasha let out a whoosh of air and sat up, looking at him. "You're talking." She commented, looking at him. She ran a hand over her eyes as she stifled a yawn. "We are in your bed. And we had sex. Do you need any more clarification?"

Steve stared at her. "And it's not a big deal to you? We're not even in a relationship!" Maybe it was just his forties background that made him horrified at the thought of sex outside of marriage- or at the very least a steady relationship, but he was uncomfortable. Sure, their four months of Chinese Food Nights had brought them close, but not _this_ close! Standing, covering himself with a towel he'd left on the floor, he sidled toward the door to the bathroom. "Well, I'm taking a shower, so you can get dressed." He informed her, cheeks slightly red. He hoped she would be gone by the time he got back out, because he wasn't sure he could handle this conversation right now.

"Steve, wait." She called, halting his movements. "Where are my clothes?" She inquired, looking around. She still appeared to be completely calm and genuinely unaware of the location of her clothing - which wasn't in the room as far as he could see either.

He studied the room as best he could without moving from his spot, but couldn't find a trace of any of her clothes. "Um… I dunno. Just, um… Just wear my robe so you can go get some clean clothes from your room. We can look for them more intensely later." He answered, desperately hoping she would leave it be for right now.

Natasha rolled her eyes, but waved him off.

Steve quickly hid away in the bathroom, taking a longer shower than usual just to make sure she had ample time to leave. By the time he was out of the bathroom, twenty minutes later, she was gone, but so were his sheets. Apparently the robe hadn't met her standards.

* * *

For the next two days, Steve almost completely avoided Natasha. He didn't show up to their Chinese Food Night, and when training rolled around each morning he'd opt to go for a jog around the base instead. He just wasn't sure how he could face her after what had happened- he was afraid she'd be angry at him for bringing the alcohol that caused this whole mess. Or, even worse, maybe things would be unchangeably awkward between them. Maybe she'd retract her invitation to join her on Chinese Food Nights. Their newfound friendship was something he'd held in the highest regards, and now he might have just lost it.

Apparently he wasn't only _not_ being discrete about his avoidance, he was also being extremely, flamboyantly obvious about it, and the few glimpses he did get of Natasha, she seemed pretty ticked off. Whether it was for his avoidance or because she blamed him for this whole mess, he didn't know.

Finally, it seemed, she'd had enough. As he was passing her in the hallway on the third day, trying to keep as much distance between them as he could, her arm suddenly shot out and snagged his, and she yanked him into a nearby closet, pulling the door shut with both of them inside.

"Nat?" Steve asked nervously, painfully aware that he was stuck in a small space with a woman who could literally kill him in forty different ways with just her bare hands and still make it look like an accident or suicide.

"You're avoiding me. Why?" Natasha demanded. "Ten words or less." She added furiously.

Steve's brain struggled to keep up with the sudden onslaught and he took a second to actually think about a coherent answer that wouldn't end in him being decapitated or castrated. "Afraid you hated me." He answered hesitantly, proud that he'd actually been able to heed the word limit in his nervousness. He was a babbler when he got nervous.

"That's stupid." Natasha decided, letting go of him and taking a small step back. Even with them both at opposite walls, there was only a few inches between them. "Because we had sex? I wouldn't hate you for that- after all, I was the one who initiated it."

Steve blinked in surprise. He couldn't remember squat about that night, and he'd assumed she was the same. "Wait… you? Really?" Natasha didn't seem the type to lie to reassure someone, but he had to make sure, just in case.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Unlike you, I can handle my drink enough to at least recall the events." She opened the door. "Let me know when you're ready to talk." She looked at Sam who looked between the two of them, clearly confused as to why they were in the closet.

"Am I interrupting something?" He asked, quickly hiding his donut behind his back.

"No." Steve answered, too quickly. When Sam raised a brow, he added, "Go run a lap and work off that donut."

Sam sighed. "But I haven't eaten it yet!" He complained. Steve put on his best stern face, putting out a confidence he didn't quite feel at the moment.

" _Now_ , Recruit!" With another sigh, Sam jogged away, mumbling about grumpy lovebirds as he went. Steve let out a breath and turned back to Natasha, only to find that she was long gone.

* * *

Steve took a breath to steel himself and made his way into the kitchen, wondering how being stabbed in the hand had amounted to all of this. Natasha was in her usual seat, and his usual box was waiting where he always sat. Carefully he slid into the seat and began to eat, letting silence reign for a few minutes. She didn't acknowledge his presence. Finally, the weighted quietness was too much. "So… what are we now?" He asked.

Natasha glanced at him, offering a small shrug combined with a half amused smirk. "What did you want us to be?"

Steve swallowed his mouthful and decided to just get it all out there. "Well… I don't know. Nat, we've been through so much together, and I'd like to think that these meetings alone have made us good friends. But… well, sex is the most intimate you can be with a person, and I don't think that should go unacknowledged. I don't know what you're comfortable with, but you did initiate the sex, so that's gotta mean something about how you feel, right?" He didn't wait for her reply. "I just mean… well, things are just so confusing now that we've crossed a barrier that friends don't usually-" She cut him off with an eye roll and a raised hand.

"Steve. You're overthinking this… and ruining Chinese Night." Natasha said bluntly. "Try again, in under twenty words - what do you want us to be from here on out?"

"That's just it! I don't know! We can't be 'just friends' anymore, not after that, but I don't know if we're-"

"Stop." Natasha announced. "Choose out of: friends, friends with benefits, dating, or no longer talking. You have one minute to decide."

Well, she certainly loved putting limits on things. What _did_ he want? Friends with benefits? He didn't know what that meant. But friends felt weird. As did dating. "Uh. How about really, really close friends?" He blurted.

She looked at him for a few seconds. "Friends it is." She confirmed.

He smiled, looking down at his food. He didn't know how he'd managed to come up with the argument of 'we can't be just friends anymore' and then follow that up with 'let's be friends', but he was glad he did, because being friends with Natasha was the best outcome he could hope for. He liked just being friends. "Does this mean, now that we're besties, that I can have access to the super elite food nights I don't know about?" He joked.

Natasha cracked a smile at him. "Pizza Wednesday actually happens in my room- that might be too intimate for friends, but now that we're really, really close friends, I think I could extend that invite to you."

He couldn't help but return her smile. "I'll bring the pop if you provide the scary movies."

"Deal." Natasha replied with a smirk.

 **And there you have it! Did you like it? Please leave us a review and/or a prompt! :D**

 **Have a great evening, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks to AnonAnnie for this prompt! This is honestly very high up on the list of weirdest things I've ever helped write... It started out as total crack, but it eventually gained emotional depth... somehow... and we ended up with this little... gem. We hope you enjoy it!**

 _Steve stumbled over a pair of purple rain boots as he made his way into his room- why was there a poster for… Fall Out Boy? What was that? A movie about a boy who fights a lot? He felt a surge of social anxiety as he realized that his lack of knowledge about modern pop culture had bitten him in the ass yet again. Sighing, he picked up his favorite blue mug and sipped at the coffee inside- only now a mouse was sitting on a tiny couch at the bottom, shaking its tiny fist at him angrily. He quickly apologized and put the mug back on the bedside table, groaning in frustration when it went down the garbage disposal. He'd have to ask Stark to build him a new one._

 _He trudged over to the bathroom and pulled the door open, only to find it stuck to the floor by a pile of jelly. "Woe is me," he mumbled, forcing it open. His eyes widened when he found none other than Natasha standing in front of the mirror._

" _I'm getting bigger boobs. Like, huge boobs!" She announced as her boobs suddenly began growing extensively in size. "This boob problem is your fault."_

" _What? I didn't mean to make your boobs grow!" He cried in horror as she turned around, the movement making her boobs gain enough momentum to swing around and wrap around her sides before returning to normal._

And suddenly he was shooting up in bed, letting out a terrified little noise. "Nat!" He exclaimed, frantically looking around the dark bedroom.

"What's wrong?" Natasha asked, her gun out and at the ready before the lamp went on, blinding him. "There're no intruders." She commented before looking at him.

Steve took a moment to steady his breathing, sizing up her chest without caring how blatant he was. "Oh, thank God." He said in relief. "Your boobs are the perfect size. Don't ever make them bigger." He told her almost sternly.

Natasha turned her full attention to him as she slipped her gun back under the pillow. "Excuse me?"

He almost laughed. "I had this nightmare where your boobs were, like, watermelons, and it was really gross. You're perfect just the way you are."

"Why do guys always dream about breasts? Go back to sleep." Natasha replied, rolling her eyes as she physically pushed him back down and used him as a pillow.

Letting out a content sigh, he wrapped an arm around her and closed his eyes.

* * *

Steve was sure that that horrible nightmare from before was messing with his very brain. That morning, when he'd first opened his eyes, the sight that met him was a pair of humongous breasts. Startled, he furrowed his brows, but when he rubbed his eyes and looked again, Natasha's breasts were the same size they'd always been.

She'd been shooting him amused looks all day, too- almost like she was planning something… like getting a boob job. He felt overly nervous.

During training, Steve watched between exchanging punches with Sam as Natasha sparred with Wanda, breasts bouncing slightly every time she moved. They didn't normally do that, did they? They seemed… bigger. Pausing his own sparring match, Steve gestured for Sam to look at Natasha. "Hey, do you think Nat's boobs look bigger?"

Sam instantly covered his eyes with his entire arm. "Nuh-uh, I ain't looking. Last time I did, I couldn't walk straight for a week!" He cried, shaking his head emphatically.

Steve rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Sam- just look." He insisted. Sam peeked at him warily for a second before sighing and slowly removing his arm, looking at Natasha as sneakily as he could. Almost immediately, a burst of red magic hit him straight in the chest, sending him flying into the wall. After he regained his breath, Sam covered his eyes.

"I told you I shouldn't look! I _told you_!" He exclaimed accusingly as Steve pulled him back to his feet.

"That was pretty good, but you let your guard down." Natasha was saying to Wanda, taking a small break from sparring before the girls picked it back up.

Groaning, Steve urged Sam to forget about it and continue their match.

* * *

Once training was over and Sam and Wanda were allowed to leave for the day, Steve instantly made his way over to Natasha, who was wiping sweat from her face with a towel. He studied her intensely. "No… they're the same size…" He muttered to himself before sighing in relief.

"What on earth are you doing?" Natasha demanded, resting a hand on her hip as she waited for an answer.

Steve chuckled and headed for his own towel. "Oh, nothing." He said dismissively. "I'll see you in a bit." He called over his shoulder as he trudged to the door, intending on going to the kitchen for a snack. He let out a frustrated moan when he realized that he'd forgotten his spare t-shirt on the bench and quickly turned back to grab it. He instantly narrowed his eyes as he watched Natasha walking from the room. "No… they're not the same! They're definitely a little bigger." He observed aloud, too quietly for her to hear. Alarmed, he hurried to grab his shirt so he could follow her and discretely double-check his findings. When he lifted the article of clothing, however, a few pieces of paper were shoved to the floor. He groaned, annoyed, and stooped to pick them up.

"What the…?" His eyes must have been bulging from his head at that point as he read the fronts of the informational leaflets for… breast implants. Breast enlargement. Boob jobs. "I _knew_ it!" He grabbed up the remaining papers and sped from the gym.

* * *

"Nat!" He called as soon as he was through the door to their bedroom. "We need to talk."

Natasha held up a finger to tell him to hold on as she presumably sent a text before sliding her phone into her back pocket and looking at him, lowering her hand. "Sure."

Steve extended the crumpled brochures and dropped them to the bedspread. "What are these?" He asked sternly. "And why haven't you brought this up with me at all? I thought we agreed that your boobs were just the right size!" He felt utterly betrayed.

"Firstly, we haven't agreed on anything. You woke up one night and made a crazed comment about them. And secondly, those aren't mine- but if you are that concerned, I'll talk to Wanda." Natasha replied coolly.

"W-Wanda?" Steve repeated, almost breathless. "But why would she…? Nat, just to clarify, you did _not_ artificially increase your breast size?"

Natasha crossed her arms. "If I decided to, that would be _my_ decision." She stated, not answering his question.

He dropped to sit beside her on the bed. "Nat, could you answer me?" He demanded, frustrated. "Yes or no?"

"When is my birthday?" Natasha questioned. "Then I'll answer your question."

Steve raised a brow. "What does your birthday have to do with this?" At her glare, he surrendered and answered, "November twenty-second. I'm not stupid, Nat- I remember."

"Okay, Mr. Not-Stupid. What is _today's_ date?"

"Uh…" Steve trailed off, mind blank. After a second of not being able to remember, he pulled out his phone and checked the date that way. November twenty-third. "Oh." He paled. One does _not_ forget their girlfriend's birthday, let alone the Black Widow's.

"And the only thing you gave me… was a comment about my breasts." Natasha replied before swiftly turning and walking out of the room.

Well now he felt like a Class A douchebag. How was he supposed to make up for this? He'd been a total jerk.

But he _would_ fix this.

* * *

Steve felt more confident than he had in days- he finally felt like he could do right by Natasha. Hopefully this would lessen the tension between them that had been building over the last day. "Oh Naaat!" He singsonged as he walked up to her- she was alone in the gym, punching the crap out of a punching bag. "I've got something for you!"

Natasha gave one last swing at the bag before turning to face him, unstrapping the gloves to adjust them. "What is it?" She inquired.

He pulled his hand out from behind his back, revealing the small envelope, and handed it to her. "For my beloved's belated birthday." He said showily.

She smiled as she accepted the envelope, opening it and reading the contents. Her expression turned icy very, very quickly. "Is this some sort of joke?" She questioned, her voice fiery, a dangerous contrast to her stare.

Taken aback, he replied, "Well… I mean, it was supposed to be… I thought maybe you wanted…" Damn, only Natasha could make him sound like an insecure schoolboy.

"You thought that I wanted to get a boob job?" Natasha questioned. "Are they not big enough for you? First you _dream_ about me enlarging them, and now you are practically insisting I do just that." She shoved the envelope at his chest. "No."

"It was supposed to be, like, proof that it's your choice- you were mad when I asked you not to, so I thought… See? Now I'm giving you a chance to make your own decisions!" He knew that had come out wrong the second the words left his lips, yet, stupidly, he hadn't shut up.

"No, you are practically _forcing_ your decision onto me. I am _happy_ with my body. And if you're not, you know where the door is." Natasha informed him, sidestepping him and returning to attacking the punching bag - a lot more aggressively than before.

Well, he'd certainly screwed up. Again. How was he supposed to fix this without offending her more? Perhaps he could start with honesty. He loudly tore the envelope in half, dropping it to the ground. Then, without saying a word, he stepped up behind her and hugged her while she was mid-punch, hoping desperately that this time he could do something right and not get punched in the face.

"Do you mind?" Natasha questioned, her tone clipped and annoyed as she attempted to wiggle out of his hold without actually hurting him.

"Nope." He answered with a small chuckle. "You know, you're the perfect size and shape to fit in my arms. I wouldn't change that for the world." He said honestly. "I love you. I'm sorry."

Natasha used more force and got out of his hold. "Jeez, shut up with the sappy crap. Can't you just make it up to me with sex like normal guys?" She exclaimed with exasperation, although he could see her anger had leaked away slightly in favor of a slight fond annoyance.

Steve laughed. "Whatever you want, birthday girl."

 **0_0 This is honestly such a weird oneshot! Haha! It was certainly fun to write, though!**

 **Please drop us a prompt! Or two! Or five!**

 **Have a lovely day, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you very much to U r awesome for this prompt: after Steve kisses Sharon Carter (Peggy's niece) Nat finds out and subtly reacts jealously but not really like whimsical because of a lost opportunity, but then Steve recalls all those moments they shared together and admits that agent Carter might be a fling because someone else (Nat) has always been by his side.**

 **We hope you like it!**

Natasha's head snapped up at Sam's words. She was blinking more than was necessary as she zeroed in on him recanting what had happened at the airport. She had heard it several times, but this was the first time she had heard him talking about what had happened _before_ they met up with Scott.

"What did you just say?" She questioned rather icily.

Sam looked up at her and away from Wanda, who looked like she had better places to be, but was too kind to say so. His face lightened up ever so slightly at her sudden interest. "Well, Bucky was in the back seat, and I was in the front - we didn't know why we both had to stay in the car while he collected our suits, until Steve and Sharon locked lips." He grinned slightly to himself, a grin of approval. "It all made sense-"

Natasha didn't continue listening to the man's rambles as she walked straight out of the room - she vaguely registered that Sam had stopped speaking.

It was obvious, from the moment that she nearly _literally_ walked into Steve as he rounded a corner, that today was not her day.

Steve pulled the phone from his ear, resting it against his chest to muffle whatever the person on the other end was saying. "Hey, Nat. I was looking for you-"

"I'm... busy right now." Natasha decided; she just needed a few moments - or hours - to process everything. She glanced at his phone. "If that's Sharon, have the logic to not tell her where we are - she might be your girlfriend, but she's still CIA."

"What?" Steve stuttered out in confusion.

But Natasha simply slipped past him and walked off - she knew what she'd said was rather petty, especially as, if the person on the phone was, in fact, Sharon, she would have heard exactly what Nat said. But right now she didn't care about being petty - she'd regret it later, regret letting her feelings get the best of her _again_. But for now, she was happy with being annoyed.

* * *

Steve tried calling Natasha back, but didn't follow her - he let her go, once again. Quickly clearing his mind, he turned his attention back to the person on the phone. "Sorry, Fury - but Natasha's a bit preoccupied at the moment." He apologized.

"Oh, I heard." Fury replied with that annoying knowing tone.

"I'll talk to her later about what you said." Steve promised. He could almost envision the other man nod before the line went dead.

Steve, slipping the phone back into his pocket, looked back at where Natasha had disappeared down the hall. It didn't take an expert behavioral analyst to know that she clearly had been angry at Sharon, judging from the acid in her voice when she spat her name- and 'girlfriend'. From that he could make the logical leap that she was mad about him kissing Sharon- he didn't need to question how she'd found out; he'd known from the moment he'd kissed Sharon that Natasha would find out one way or another. The only thing that confused him was what was making her act so hatefully- it shouldn't have affected her that much, right?

Unless she was… jealous. As soon as he thought it, he felt ridiculous- why would Nat be jealous? They weren't a couple, and as far as he knew, she hadn't expressed any desires to become one. Slightly conflicted, he made his way down the halls, not caring where he went, just randomly turning down whatever hall seemed longer. As dumb as it sounded, he couldn't get the idea of her being jealous out of his head. That was the only theory that made sense.

But why would she be jealous? That, he couldn't begin to guess at. Well…

 _The air was getting thinner. With each second bringing them higher and higher into the atmosphere, Steve felt his head getting lighter. They were most certainly going to die- yet he couldn't find it in himself to be afraid. The view of the serene cloudy sky was enough to drain the tension from him- that and the steady presence of Natasha at his side._

" _There's worse ways to go. Where else am I gonna get a view like this?" She said, turning to him with a sad smile. Looking at her, he couldn't help but agree._

The memory came unbidden, but wasn't unwelcome. Maybe there _was_ something there, something he'd been too stupid to accept? Or was he just imagining things now to help support his theory? But the more he tried to negate the significance of the memories, the more he realized there was just too much history between them to make him see them in any other light.

 _He wasn't healing fast enough- he wouldn't be ready to block the incoming strike in time. Still, groaning, he got to his feet and used his broken arm to painfully wrap around the large laceration between his ribs, bringing up his good arm to attempt to ward off the giant man he was fighting._

 _With one agonizing blow, he was down, using both arms to cradle his numerous cracked and broken ribs. He was mostly impervious to such injuries, but once one finally hurt him, it got easier and easier to do so until he managed to break away to heal again. But there was no breaking away for him this time- he could hardly manage to keep his eyes open at this point, let alone scrounge up the energy to stand._

 _As he waited for a finishing blow, his eyes caught on a strange shape coming out of the shadows- a shape he knew. "Nat?" He croaked, hardly hoping to believe his eyes. A few blows to the head could certainly show him Natasha where there was no Natasha to be found._

" _Hello, damsel in destress - your hero has arrived." She teased, and suddenly he was_ pretty _sure she was real. He let out an unrestrained sigh of relief and dropped his head back onto the floor, allowing himself to heal while leaving the titanic attacker in Nat's capable hands._

If she hadn't been there- breaking several protocols in the process, actually, as she was supposed to have been on a different mission at the time- he doubted he would have made it out of that building alive, or at least wholly intact. She'd gotten in lots of trouble to come to his aid, and while authority had never mattered to her much anyway, as did rules, it still meant something. He'd come to realize that Natasha was more dependable than almost anyone else on the team. When he really thought of all the times she'd been by his side, all of the shitty situations and hard times during which she'd stayed with him unwaveringly, he was overwhelmed with the realization that there was something between them, something that tethered them to each other in a way Steve had never really experienced before.

" _Who do you want me to be?"_

" _How about a friend?"_

" _Well, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers."_

The wrong business indeed. Why hadn't he realized then what she was trying to say? Why hadn't he picked up on it? Steve's gut wrenched as he thought of what he'd done to Natasha- why had he ever thought Sharon Carter would work out? Why was he turning away from the one person who was there for him the most? Giving up what had the potential to be a monumental partnership for a- a fling?

In that moment, it was all perfectly clear: he loved Natasha. He'd missed so many opportunities, and this time, he wouldn't let it slip him by. Stopping in his tracks, he pulled out his phone and dialled her number. They needed to talk.

 **Short but sweet! Please drop us a review and/or a prompt! (Also, still need twin prompts, if anyone is feeling inspired.)**

 **Have a nice day, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you very much,** **Vylnetwilight and Jollyroger, for your requests for this continuation of drunk!Steve (teasing and paranoia afterwards). We pick on poor Steve so much :P Anyway, please enjoy this chapter!**

Steve wasn't sure if he was being paranoid or not, but ever since that night that Thor had given him that special alcohol that had gotten him drunk - thanks, Thor - Natasha kept giving him weird looks. Mainly sly smirks, and it was completely unnerving. He wanted to ask her why- did something happen that he didn't remember? Was that even possible? He didn't remember being _that_ drunk.

Great, now he was pretty sure he _was_ being paranoid… but, all of these questions running around his head were making him anxious. Okay, he needed to ask Nat what happened. He pulled her aside during training while the others were sparring, trying to hide his anxiousness. "Nat, could we talk real quick?" He asked, hating it when she got that terrifying knowing smirk.

"Sure. Any particular subject?" She asked, willingly stepping to the side and out of the others' hearing range.

He fidgeted quite nervously, but couldn't quite stop himself. "What happened that night I got drunk?" He blurted, trying to keep this as quick and to-the-point as he could. He psyched himself up for the answer- he couldn't have done too much, right? Yeah, whatever the answer was, he could take it.

Her smirk widened somewhat in response as her hand rested on his chest teasingly. "Hmm… it was a long night." She replied softly.

Steve's breath caught in his throat as dread settled heavily in his gut. What the… hell? What had he _done?_ Had he…? He couldn't possibly have… "Did we…?" Much like his thoughts, he couldn't finish the sentence, trailing off with an awkward choke. He had absolutely no idea if he could handle knowing that something like _that_ had happened between them without his knowledge.

Natasha laughed, looking up at him. "Wouldn't you like to know." She looked down at his boxers region and then winked at him before walking off.

Well, shit.

* * *

After training was over, he snagged her again and pulled her off to the side. "Seriously, Nat, what the hell happened that night?" He demanded, totally not sounding desperate.

"Steve, I have better things to do right now than give you a minute-by-minute recollection of a night that happened a week ago." Natasha replied, placing her hand on her hip.

He groaned. "Nat, this is killing me! What if I did something terrible? It's unnerving, not knowing what I did!" He insisted.

Natasha set him a soft, teasing smile. "If it makes you feel better, you didn't strip in public or put anybody in hospital." She paused. "Feel better?"

Well, he could now cross a few possible atrocities off the list. "Sort of. But did we… you know?" Considering there was little to no romantic relationship between them, he felt uncomfortable asking such a question.

"Did we… what?" Natasha asked, faking ignorance, looking up at him with wide, curious eyes - but he knew that was an act.

He sighed in annoyance. "Did we sleep together, Natasha Romanoff?" He asked with frustration.

Natasha set him with another soft smile. "We did not have sex, and you slept in your own bed." She assured him. "Although… no, nevermind." She said, shaking her head.

Steve almost tore his hair out. " _What_?" He cried, tempted to shake her by the shoulders but knowing that if he did, he'd most likely lose a limb or two.

"Calm down." Natasha told him with a smile.

She couldn't possibly be serious. "Calm down? Why would I calm down? You've given me no reason to _calm down_! Stop playing games with me, woman!" He snapped.

Natasha stared at him for a few moments. "You have very interesting dreams, with Bucky and Peggy… and me, dancing and kissing you." She paused. "Oh, and sometimes I'm wearing white." Another pause. "Want to share that information with the team?" She asked.

Steve was still trying to get over the shock of knowing he'd shared _that particular dream_ with Natasha when she added that last bit, and he almost choked on his own spit. "What? No! Why would you… ?" He felt like he'd trailed off a little too much lately, but he just couldn't seem to finish these sentences- this situation was so bizarre and infuriating.

"It's in the past now; it's not like I'm going to tell the team what you said, nor am I going to show them the video. So, why do you need to know? Surely it's not that important?" Natasha questioned.

"Video? _Video_? Why didn't you tell me you'd taken a video of me?" Honestly, why was he so surprised at this point?

Natasha sent him a sweet and innocent smile. "Oh, was that important?" She laughed slightly. "How about I show you later?"

Despite his raging embarrassment at what had already been revealed of that night, Steve decided that it was probably for the best to just get it all over with. Then at least he could fill in a small piece of the gaping hole in his memory. "Ugh, alright."

Natasha patted his chest before walking away, actually chuckling to herself.

* * *

Steve's face was completely red and hot by the time the video was over. What the hell had gotten into him? He was such an idiot! Ashamed, he looked away from Natasha, trying to figure out how he was ever supposed to live this down.

Natasha smirked slightly, handing him a flash drive. "I made you a copy of the video and other pictures that may or may not have been taken with prompting."

Steve's jaw clenched. "Why would you do that?" He demanded, sweeping the drive from her grasp and stomping it underfoot with a pointed look. "And who else has seen them?"

"It was just a bit of fun- you were all for it." Natasha stood up, obviously not amused at his small outburst. "That wasn't the only copy - and I've already told you that I haven't shown anybody."

He glared, then calmed himself down and sighed. "Well, thanks for _that_ , at least. But _please_ , Nat, _please_ delete the pictures and the video."

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because, it's making memories. You might not see it now, but this isn't a bad thing." Natasha explained. "You'll probably never be drunk again… don't you want to have memories and evidence of the night? The one night you'll never be able to repeat?" Natasha questioned.

Steve was almost tempted to scowl at her. That was the weakest defense he'd ever heard. Still, he didn't really want to keep fighting, so he dialled it back a notch. "Nat, I don't want anyone to see me like that- it could literally ruin my reputation. How would any recruit respect me after seeing that?"

"You always talk to me about the awesome and crazy things you and Bucky did when you were younger, and how you wish you could show us." Natasha pointed out, handing him another flash drive. "You might come to that point again in life, wanting to share what happened - and you _are_ Captain America, so you can just knock out anybody who dares to defy you."

"What, show them me saying stupid things with you making fun of me in the background?" He argued, crossing his arms.

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever- I'll delete the fucking videos." She said, walking straight from the room.

Steve groaned. Why was it that every fight ended with him feeling bad?

* * *

 **~18 years later~**

After evening training with the new recruits was over for the night, Steve was relieved to head home and drop his shoes in the closet. He was tired, and he couldn't wait to spend some time with his family before dropping into bed and sleeping until noon tomorrow. However, he didn't find his wife and son in their more frequented rooms of the house- and it was past dinnertime, so surely they weren't in the dining room… Laughter led him into the basement, into the entertainment room, where Natasha and James were seated on the couch, watching a video on the bigscreen TV. Steve froze when he recognized the video. _Dear Lord..._

Natasha glanced up, and within a second the TV was off. "Hey, Honey! You're back early." She said, overly chirpy.

James turned around and burst into laughter again. "When's Thor coming next? I _really_ wanna see you drunk!"

Steve was caught between blushing in embarrassment or flushing in anger. He did both. "I'm not an alcoholic, _James_ , so you'll never have to worry about seeing me like that." He said pointedly.

"Oh." James muttered with disappointment. He then looked between his parents. "You know… I think I have… homework… or chores… Yeah." He said, quickly darting from the room.

"Okay… I have a really good defense for this…" Natasha said, drifting off after every sentence, although she still looked highly amused with herself.

Steve put a hand on his hip and raised a brow. "And what would _that_ be, _dear_?" He asked.

Natasha hesitated. "James wanted to try alcohol and I needed a deterrent?" She more asked than defended.

For some reason, instead of making him angrier, Steve wanted to laugh. He didn't, however, and kept up a fake angry face. No use encouraging her to do this again. "Nat, he's _fifteen_ \- he can _try_ alcohol as long as he knows not to abuse it and that he can't drink any more of it until he's of legal age. Showing him humiliating video of his own father is counterproductive- how do you think he's going to look at me from now on?"

"Come on, he loves you." Natasha replied casually. "Besides, he's a visual learner. How is this different from you showing him a video of me killing eighteen hostiles for 'educational purposes' last month?"

Steve's jaw dropped. "He thought it was awesome! Besides, how else would he learn when it's okay to use his fighting skills to kill?" He defended.

Natasha crossed her arms. "And he thought this was hilarious - how else would he learn how alcohol can affect somebody? Especially somebody as seemingly untouchable as Captain America- his own father?" She paused. "And additionally, I don't want our son to ever need to kill anybody. He's still just a baby." Really, Natasha visibly hadn't aged a day since their Avengers days, yet the motherly protectiveness that crossed her face now made her seem years older- not that it was anything close to _old_ , though.

"Uhh… I'm _fifteen_." James complained from behind the door, then they heard his scurrying footsteps head up the stairs as he must have realized he'd said that out loud.

Steve groaned. "In conclusion, you're a badass and I'm a bumbling drunk. Fantastic."

"Steve, we both know that you've always been the embarrassing parent." Natasha teased, smirking at him playfully.

"Shut up." He retorted, though he couldn't stop the small smile pulling at his lips.

 **Did you like it? Please say you did! Also, please leave a review and/or prompt as a birthday present to meee! *shameless***

 **Anyway, have a wonderful last day of July, everybody!**

 **-Violet**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks to Shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod for the prompt of a followup to the Chinese Food chapter, this time featuring Pizza Wednesdays and Steve getting scared because Nat brought too scary of a horror movie. This chapter made Vanilla and I laugh so much while writing it, to be honest!**

 **We couldn't quite imagine Steve getting 'scared' so much as 'freaked out', so it might not be exactly as your prompt asked for. Also, this is a rare friendship oneshot between our pairing- I just realized that now :P**

 **Still, we hope you enjoy it!**

Steve settled himself on the bed beside Natasha, laying out some paper towels just in case he spilled something- he didn't understand why she was okay with them eating pizza and drinking pop on her bed, but he didn't want to risk making a mess anyway. The pizza smelled enticingly flavorful and he'd been assured that the movie- despite being a horror movie, a genre he typically avoided- would really catch his fancy. All in all, he had high hopes that the little 'slumber party' would go well. After all, he'd come over for them twice now, and so far, everything was good.

"So what's the movie called, again?" He asked as Natasha got herself comfortable against the headboard, socked feet crossed underneath her. He was honestly a little worried about what the movie would be like- she'd promised it was more psychological horror than slasher, but he had too little experience with the genre as a whole to understand what that meant. In the forties, horror movies weren't all that scary, a product of their time, but he'd heard that twenty-first century horror flicks were much more frightening.

" _Her Worst Nightmare_ ," she answered his question before taking a bite of her pizza. After swallowing she picked up her controller. "Ready?"

Taking a deep breath, Steve nodded and fixed his eyes on the screen, absently taking a bite of the _amazing_ pizza every few seconds. It started out rather tame- a teen girl, drinking a huge cup of coffee, eyes ringed with marks of very little sleep. However, as the movie progressed, Steve's gut sank further and further- the girl had a power that terrified her: she could, on random occasion, without having input or control over it, enter the dreams of another. Not too bad, except that the dreams were always nightmares, horrific and graphic, and the victim always became trapped in their nightmares whenever the girl was in them too. And the only way to release them from the horror, the pain, the fear, was for her to kill them in the dream- and, as she'd found out sometime before the events of the movie, subsequently kill them in real life. But it was the only way. That was why she hated sleeping, for fear of entering yet another nightmare- or, worse yet, the nightmares of the ones she loved.

The first dream sequence they saw was thirty minutes in. The girl and the victim, another teenage girl, were cautiously walking down a dark hallway, their only lighting being a flickering fluorescent several feet away. Steve's heart began to race as they drew closer and closer to the only door, the music getting louder and more intense- he mentally urged them not to open the door, because surely there were monsters behind it! His eyes were wide as the girl reached forward and slowly turned the knob, pulling the door open…

Steve had been expecting a man in some sort of monster costume, or maybe slashed with special effects makeup. He hadn't been expecting the huge-ass skeletal snake-dragon hybrid that sprang from the depths of the darkness before them, and he jumped and let out a rather undignified shriek. "What the _hell_ is that?!" He shouted, pointing at the screen. It looked so real! He turned frantically to Natasha, still pointing. "What _is_ that? Why does that look real? _Do those really exist?_ " He was on the verge of hyperventilating. How had they gotten a creature so graphically detailed into their movie? Had they gotten a huge snake and… painted it? Or… no, nothing made sense!

Natasha literally burst out in laughter, hitting pause on the movie, and when she went to say something, one look at his expression made her burst out in laughter again. "It's… just a movie!" She eventually got out.

Steve scowled at her- why was she mocking him? "Yeah, but how did they get something that's _not real_ into the movie? Those don't exist, but it looks real! _How_?" He must have sounded insane, but he wanted answers, dammit!

"It's just CGI, Steve," Natasha informed him, still chuckling; she dramatically wiped a tear from her eye. "And here I thought the big strong Captain America wouldn't scare so easily." She teased.

Calmer now, Steve glared at her. "Okay, what's CGI? And I'm not _scared_ \- just… super confused." He defended, crossing his arms.

Natasha laughed, shaking her head. "Oh, no, this is definitely more fun… let's hope the _monster_ doesn't come for you next." She said, tickling his side as she hit play.

Steve felt his eyes widen. She hadn't answered his question! He wanted to protest, but he was pretty sure he'd given her enough blackmail material for at least a month, and he didn't want to come off as a desperate, scared little boy. Still hopelessly confused, he turned back to the movie and watched the strange creature with a morbid fascination as it wound around the two girls, teeth flashing. If he looked closely he could see that it didn't look… quite as real as he'd thought. It almost looked like an animation, though definitely more realistic than one. Was it… a trick of the light? A camera trick? He was so _confused_!

By the time the movie ended with a panicked woman running into her daughter's room, having seen her kill herself in a desperate attempt to save her mother in her dream, to find that yes, the protagonist teen had died in real life as well, Steve was sitting back against the headboard, rethinking life as he knew it.

Natasha turned to him, turning off the TV. "So… what did you think?" She asked, placing her hand on his arm. "Are you okay?"

"No! I am _not_ okay! It's like everything I know is a lie!" Steve replied, shrugging her hand off. "What is CGI?" He asked forcefully.

She smiled softly, almost patronizingly, but not quite. "Do you know what animation is?" She questioned.

Of course he did. He told her as much.

"It's exactly the same as that, but they make it look more real." Natasha paused. "Happy now?"

Well, honestly, not really, considering that explanation was almost word-for-word what he'd been theorizing earlier. Not that he'd say that out loud- he didn't want to be stabbed or something. "Uh, yeah. Sure." Steve busied himself with cleaning up the paper plates and napkins on the bedspread before speaking again. "Oh, and next time, could we please stick with comedies or romances? For my sanity's sake?"

 **Ah, Steve. So... well, he's not really naive... I'm not sure how to describe him in this :P Vanilla titled this chapter 'AHH CGI!', so that is what it is officially called from now on, because it's awesome.**

 **Anywho, thank you so much for reading! Please drop us a review and/or a prompt if you feel so inclined!**

 **Also, this is your last chance to give a prompt for a parenting scene with the twins before we finish writing it and do the final editing! If you want to see Steve and Nat in some wild or fluffy situation with their miracle twin children, Sarah and James, at any stage of the kids' lives, please speak now or forever hold your prompt!**

 **Have a nice day, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	16. Chapter 16

**Duuude, this took forever to get posted! Sorry for the delay! Thanks for the prompt, Sportsfan! Hope you like it! This one is 'Bucky and Nat pretend to date make a jealous Steve admit his feelings for her.'**

It had taken only a few weeks of them 'hanging out' for Bucky to decide he liked Natasha- she was smart, determined, and didn't take crap from anyone. He enjoyed spending time with her whenever they decided to, and he got the feeling that she liked him as well. He would have thought their relationship was maturing into something more, except for the fact that he'd seen the way Stevie-boy would look at her sometimes. His friendship with Steve had been put through some hard times lately, so he wouldn't risk it further by making moves on someone he clearly felt for.

Tonight was one of those nights where they were just kind of talking over their bowls of Ramen noodles. They were both too tired to do much of anything else- not that they minded. Bucky greedily slurped up a noodle, relishing the taste. "And then she slapped him and walked off! I think that's when he swore off womanizing for good." He was regaling her with funny tales from his time spent with Steve back in the forties.

Natasha laughed, shaking her head in amusement. "Yes, he's never been good with women- still isn't." She replied before taking her last bite.

Bucky sighed. "Yeah- I'd love to see him in a long-term, _serious_ relationship." He totally hadn't said that in any kind of pointed way.

The woman beside him scoffed. "That would involve him opening his eyes once in awhile."

He chuckled. "Yeah, he's always been a bit… slow, when it comes to relationships. And people of the opposite sex." He agreed, putting his bowl in the dishwasher.

"Well, I wish he'd speed the hell up." Natasha replied. "Now," she started, standing up, "what's for dessert?"

"We've got ice cream." Bucky offered, grabbing the carton out of the freezer. As he scooped some into a bowl for her, he asked cheekily, "Why are you so concerned with him 'speeding the hell up'?"

Natasha gave him an 'are you serious' look as she took her bowl. "It seems like all men are blind - or maybe it's simply men who are technically over ninety."

Bucky began scooping his own ice cream with a smirk. "Oh, no, I think I've got an idea… when're you gonna tell him how you feel, lovebird?"

"There's the problem- apart from jumping him in his room, I can't be more straightforward about my feelings with him. He doesn't even acknowledge them… he doesn't acknowledge that he's even allowed to consider it - and that's frustrating." Natasha took a spoonful of ice cream. "I don't care if he doesn't like me back, but I do want him to at least acknowledge it and let me know one way or the other."

Bucky's expression softened and he took his bowl over to the table beside her. "I understand- I'd be mad, too. He's not being fair to you." He said sympathetically. "Have you tried talking to him about it?" Because he knew Steve loved Nat- he just needed to actually tell her as much.

Another scoff came from the redhead. "Seriously, tell me what to say, and I'll say it… and it'll be me teasing him." She told him straightforwardly.

He sighed. "So, basically he needs to be the one to tell you, not the other way around." He summarized.

Natasha shrugged as she continued to eat her ice cream. "Or I'm being naive and need to move on - it's ludicrous for me to think that he'd actually be open to… Forget I said anything; it's just time for me to move on."

Bucky was the one to scoff this time. "Move on? If there's one thing I know about you, it's that you don't just let things go willy-nilly. No, we need to get Steve to admit to his feelings- because, trust me, they're there." He assured her with an evil grin.

"Bucky, I'm not going to pursue somebody who I have no chance with- besides, he deserves better."

He frowned. "Nat, if anything, _you're_ out of _his_ league. You're a good person- don't hate on yourself. No, believe me, you've got a chance with him- we've just got to make him see what's been right in front of him this whole time."

It was obvious that Natasha wanted to dispute everything he just said, and he was sure she had a hundred arguments to back up her claim, but she didn't. "What exactly do you have in mind?" She paused, but before he had chance to talk, added a clause. "Because this will be the last time I put myself out for Steve. If this doesn't work, then I'll take the hint and leave him alone - romantically, anyway."

Bucky nodded. "I get it. But I think my plan will work- Stevie's always been rather easy to rile up, if you know how to do it; jealousy is especially effective. What if we were to make him jealous enough to admit his feelings?"

"Jealousy? Alright, and who do you propose I sleep with?" Natasha questioned.

He almost did a double-take. "No, not like that- I meant like pretending to date someone." He amended hastily.

She looked more put-off by that idea. "That seems more complicated; having sex is a lot easier - I know what to do there and surely that'd be a quick and simple way to make him jealous?"

"Yeah, but that would have more strings attached in the end… what if you and I pretended to date? Since we're both in on it, that would make things easier." He suggested, praying to God he wasn't blushing as he spoke.

Natasha smirked at him, once again standing and moving over to him, standing inches away from him. "Are you asking me out? Aren't you afraid I'd fall in love with you? Or is that your intention?" She teased.

Bucky kept himself from completely shutting her down- that wouldn't end well. "I guess we'll find out," he replied smoothly, then laughed. "Are you in?"

Natasha laughed. "Sure - this wouldn't be the first time I pretended to date somebody." She admitted, pulling her ice cream closer to her instead of walking back over to it. "So, what are the boundaries? You seemed reluctant to the sex idea - I suppose you'll have other boundaries."

"Well, no sex- Steve would hate me forever. Other than that I can't think of anything else." He said with a shrug. He almost couldn't believe they were really doing this, but he reminded himself that it was for Steve's own good. And Natasha's, actually.

"Great, when do we get started?" Natasha asked him.

He smirked. "It's already begun."

* * *

Steve's mind was whirling around with everything he had heard. Four hours ago he had heard the unthinkable; apparently, Bucky and Natasha were dating. Now, of course this was a rumor and there was no grounds to actually believe that this ludicrous thing was true, but still, he couldn't get rid of that niggling feeling in his gut. Where were Natasha and Bucky, anyway? He hadn't seen either of them where they usually were, and he couldn't help but wonder if they were together at that moment. He really needed to confront them on this.

He checked in Bucky's room first, but found nothing- there were noises coming from Natasha's room, however, and he immediately pushed the door open. "Nat, we-" He was met with the sight of Natasha and Bucky locking lips passionately, and he blanched. "Oh, uh-"

Bucky broke away from Natasha's lips and gave Steve a lazy smile. "Oh, hey, Stevie. Sorry about that- you should've knocked, though."

"You can't just walk into my room without knocking - I could have been changing." Natasha spouted out at him, her annoyance obvious as she created a three metre distance between herself and Bucky.

Steve watched them, wide-eyed, trying not to explode. Who did Bucky think he was-? No, Steve, breathe. He technically wasn't in a relationship with Natasha- she was free to date who she wanted. _Even if it's a backstabbing best friend_. "Oh, sorry." He said as meekly as he could manage. "So, it's true, then? You two are a thing now?" He knew the answer, but dreaded hearing it aloud regardless.

"A thing? What does that even mean?" Natasha questioned, crossing her arms. "Bucky and I are just… seeing where things go."

Steve almost wanted to snap something at her, but he controlled himself stiffly. "I see. Well, uh… congrats, I guess. I don't know if that's what you're supposed to say, but…" He trailed off, still eyeing them suspiciously, jealousy twisting in his gut.

Natasha scoffed slightly. "You can say whatever you want, Steve. There's no script." She informed him, looking just as awkward as he felt seeing them.

Bucky raised a brow at her. "What's wrong? It's just Steve- he's not gonna demand we stop seeing each other." He teased, making Steve's blood boil. _Just Steve, eh?_ Steve forced himself to smile understandingly.

"Yeah, no, it's all… fine." Bucky seemingly ignored the clear discomfort in his voice and smiled chipperly.

"See? It's all fine!" He reassured Natasha.

Natasha nodded. "Great." She said, a lot less chipperly than Bucky. "Well, I'm sure you both have a lot to talk about, and I… need to punch something. You know, for training." She said, slipping past Steve and leaving them both in her room.

Steve shuffled his foot for a second before Bucky's hand on his arm brought him out of his brooding. "Stevie-boy, you know if you're not comfortable with us dating, you can say so now- we won't be mad. If you wanted Natasha for yourself…" He trailed off pointedly. Steve spluttered, taken totally by surprise, and thus defaulting to denial.

"What? No, no, you can have her, Bucky. You two are perfect for each other. I don't have any problems with it." He said quickly. Bucky looked less than convinced but shrugged.

"Alright, whatever you say. Just know you can confess your love for her at any time." Before Steve could smack him upside the head, Bucky was out the door.

* * *

Natasha crossed her ankles on the coffee table, stealing some more of Bucky's popcorn - not that it was truly classed as stealing, as Bucky had offered it to her more times than she'd taken some. She furrowed her brows at the movie Bucky had chosen- it had come out this year and was a romantic comedy… no fighting or action. But, Bucky seemed to be enjoying it, so who was she to complain?

Bucky sighed, stretching his arms over his head, a wince crossing his face before disappearing in a flash as he settled back in, eyes glued to the screen. He'd been wincing minutely quite a bit the past several hours, but if he was in pain, he had yet to voice any complaints about it. Even Steve would admit something like that after an hour or two, mostly so he could figure out how to get rid of the pain and move on more quickly.

"Alright, what's wrong?" Natasha asked as she turned her attention to him - if she had to listen to another pointless poem from the guy in the movie, she'd go insane.

"Huh?" Bucky asked in slight surprise, furrowing his brows at her before comprehension dawned on his face. "Oh, it's nothing too bad. Just some sore muscles- carrying this thing around," he shrugged his metal arm, "can really tire you out sometimes." His smile was supposed to be reassuring, she was sure, but his shrug had transformed it into yet another wince.

Natasha let out a sigh as she pulled her legs back and knelt beside him. "Lean forward - I can't have you wincing all night." She said, already placing her hands on his shoulder, digging her palm into him to test the strength and resistance of his muscles.

"Natasha, I- oh, wow." Bucky cut himself off with a tiny intake of breath, relenting and leaning forward. "That feels _really_ good." He admitted, closing his eyes with a sigh.

With a smirk, she slipped one leg around his back to be able to easily reach his entire upper back and shoulders as she began to knead his muscles. "You have so much tension." She commented, only slightly shocked. "No wonder you're so inflexible."

He only made a slightly offended sound, relaxing under her touch. "Thanks for this, Nat. It's really helping."

"Yeah, yeah." She waved it off. Massaging him was a lot more interesting than the movie anyway, but she wasn't going to tell him that. Besides, another thing she wouldn't tell him, or anybody else, was that she enjoyed giving others massages - who wouldn't like feeling up guys?

"Oh, is this that- oh. Uhm…" Steve's voice came from behind them, and Bucky tensed a tiny bit in surprise at his sudden appearance before looking back at Steve over his shoulder.

"Hey, Stevie-boy. Wanna watch with us?" He offered his uncomfortable friend with a relaxed smile. Steve looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do, but he nodded anyway and moved to sit on the couch- a pretty good distance away from the two.

Steve looked at them oddly. "So… what's going on there?" He asked awkwardly.

Natasha glanced at him, realizing exactly how it looked- she was practically laying on Bucky from behind. "Just giving him a massage - you wouldn't believe how tense he is." She said, offering him a small smile before continuing to knead Bucky's shoulders.

Steve raised a brow. "Nah, I believe it." He forcibly turned his gaze to the TV, all but staring at it in his obvious efforts to not look at them.

Bucky shot Natasha a mischievous smile over his shoulder before lowering his head and closing his eyes again. "Steve, Nat has the hands of an angel." He said with a large exhale.

"Really? Interesting…" Steve replied with clearly forced civility, eyes never leaving the screen. Bucky's shoulders shook with quiet laughter.

Natasha lightly hit Bucky's shoulder, a nonverbal way in telling him to pull himself together, but didn't add a comment. Although, she did continue the massage in full force - the course she had years ago was all coming back to her. She'd just have to remember to not snap the person's neck at the end of it.

Bucky, however, wasn't done goading Steve, and ignored her silent warning. "Seriously, dude, maybe you should get yourself a girlfriend so we can do double-date massages!" He teased, Steve valiantly keeping any responses to himself. "Because this, my friend, is-" he was cut off when Natasha harshly whacked him on the back of the head. To his credit, he didn't cry out in pain, but he shot her an unapologetic look while rubbing at his now-sore head.

"Don't worry, Steve. I'll happily give you a massage later - no girlfriend needed." Natasha said, letting go of Bucky and sitting down - she did feel slightly slumped that she left the massage mid-way. However, knowing Bucky would feel uneven was enough satisfaction - he should have taken her first warning.

Steve was looking at the two of them with a combination of jealousy and what appeared to be concern for their mental health. At Natasha's offer, his cheeks reddened only slightly and he looked away again, studiously reading the credits running over the screen. "That's alright, Nat- unlike Mister Hardass over there, I'm already pretty loose." He replied, a small smirk on his face when Bucky made an offended noise.

"Excuse me, do _you_ have to carry around eighty pounds of metal, motors, batteries and computer?" Bucky argued, tapping on his bionic arm for emphasis. Steve's smirk didn't fade, but he didn't say anything in retort. Bucky sighed in exasperation and turned to Natasha. "So insensitive." He said, sounding mockingly indignant.

Natasha scoffed. "No sympathy from me." She decided, standing up and stretching. "If you'll excuse me - I'm bored." She said, before heading for the door.

After she was out of their sight, although still within earshot without their knowledge, Bucky chuckled. "I've got quite the spitfire on my hands."

Steve's short reply was, "No kidding."

Natasha frowned; spitfire? Nah, she didn't like that. She walked off.

* * *

Natasha had to admit, having Bucky's weight pressed against her was nice, especially when he was pressing those soft hot kisses against her neck. It had only been nine days since they had begun this charade, but there were times in the last few days that she had wished it wasn't a charade, wished that they didn't plan every makeout session to when Steve was more than likely to walk in on them - and that made her feel like an awful person. However, it was tough to think about other people's feelings when his mouth felt that good and his metal hand was up the back of her shirt.

But, as it had been with most of the other make-out sessions, she heard the routine steps of the certain person they were trying to break - Steve. She almost wished he'd walk straight past, but he didn't. Even though she wasn't sure what her feelings in general were, it had become more and more apparent that if it took _this_ much effort to be able to talk to somebody about a possible relationship, then maybe it wasn't worth it.

Yes, Steve was amazing. But the charade she was in wasn't nine days long- it had been a few years. Since they were partnered up, she had been sending signals, and within the last few months, she had full out told him that she'd willingly date him - but he took it as a joke. He chose right then that she couldn't possibly be serious, but she still tried to make him see that she was serious. But for what?

Bucky leaned away from her when he walked in, apologizing for him walking in on something - and that's when she realized she needed to end things with Bucky. She was dating him as a lie, and she needed to end it before it was too late, and then be open with him.

However, when Steve asked to speak with Bucky _alone_ , she knew she was already too late. She shouldn't have carried on with this charade when she began to have doubts that her feelings for Steve were true and strong. But, still with this all in her mind, she took her time to adjust her top so she was covered properly and exited the room, giving them the privacy to talk - well, what they thought was privacy.

Since the charade had begun, she had listened in on near enough every encounter they had with each other, and this wouldn't be any different.

"Bucky, I love Natasha. I don't like you dating her." Steve said bluntly. Bucky chuckled.

"Well it's about damn time! Now why don't you tell _her_ that?"

"It's… what? I thought you'd be a bit more opposed to this."

"Dude, we've been waiting for you to say that for _days_!" Bucky said exasperatedly.

The confusion and displeasure in Steve's voice was apparent. "Why were you…?"

Natasha had heard enough and walked on. If Steve had said that a week ago, she would have entered and room and ripped his clothes off - well, not literally; she wasn't sure if he was a virgin or not. But still. She would have been completely willing to try things with him, and she wasn't one who was generally open for relationships.

However, now, with what she had done, she knew that she could do a relationship and was willing to put her ass on the line to try. However, now she wasn't confident at all that she should go with Steve. And she knew how much of a problem that would be. Especially as she felt like she being with Bucky was the more logical and heartfelt decision.

* * *

Steve couldn't help but feel completely and utterly angry with Bucky and Natasha for pulling such a trick on him, even if it _was_ to provide him this eventual opportunity to confess his feelings for Natasha. Had he been so see-through, though? Ugh, they infuriated him so much sometimes. Still, he had to admit that he definitely had feelings for Nat, and if she was just waiting for him to admit that…

He and Bucky- that annoying bastard insisted on following to see how this turned out- found her in the gym, mercilessly assaulting a punching bag. "Nat, can we talk?" He called to her as he approached, Bucky not far behind with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

She turned around to face him, a serious look on her face as she turned off her tablet in her hand. "Sure."

Steve took a deep breath and just went for it before he lost his nerve. "I love you, Natasha. Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?" He almost wanted to look away from her in nervousness, but he kept his eyes resolutely on her face. Why he was expecting any reaction other than 'Finally!' was beyond him, considering the circumstances, but he still felt the need to see her face.

Natasha sighed softly. "Damn it." She muttered to herself before looking him straight in the eyes. "Steve, I think our relationship should be purely platonic and professional. My apologies for my past actions, but they have made me realize that we just wouldn't work. I hope this doesn't impact our friendship?"

Steve almost wanted to die in that moment. All that build-up, all that intricate planning… just for her to turn him down? This was why he'd been reluctant to admit anything in the past! Bucky looked just as confused as him. "Wait, what? Nat, why are you saying that? I thought we'd done all of that fake dating just so you could date him."

"We did… but when I realized I liked you a lot more than him… I was going to call it all off - then he had to decide to come to his senses." Natasha replied, as if it were an annoyance that Steve chose that exact moment to come clean. "I don't want to string anybody along by agreeing to go on a date." She explained.

Steve felt just slightly heartbroken at this revelation, and he hunched his shoulders. "Nat, seriously?" He turned on Bucky then. "You got my hopes up! What's wrong with you?" Even though logically he knew it wasn't Bucky's fault that things didn't go to plan.

Bucky held up his hands placatingly. "Dude, don't give me that! She threw us _both_ for a loop!"

"Yeah, but making her fall in love with you? What kind of friend-"

"This is my fault… but then again, somebody who takes years to finally see the light and confess his feelings…" Natasha shrugged. "It's probably your fault; you shouldn't keep people waiting that long."

He internally groaned, beginning to see her point, but externally he just crossed his arms. " _MY_ fault? That's hilarious, Nat. Really. I never said anything because I was afraid _this_ would happen! And what do you know? I was right!"

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder. "Okay, let's not fight, now." Steve glared at him.

"No, you were a chicken - a scared little boy. If you had any guts, you wouldn't have needed the insurance that somebody would say yes to ask them out!" Natasha threw back, her stare turning icy. "Grow some balls." With that she turned and strutted away.

Steve turned to Bucky incredulously, but his friend just shrugged. "She's got a point, man."

* * *

A month later, having heard little from Natasha and having seen her in person even less, Steve was more than surprised to suddenly see her on TV on a rerun of a recent talk show episode as he was idly flipping through various news networks. But she wasn't alone on the couch for the generic sassy woman's talk show. Next to her, with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, was Tony Stark. Bucky, sitting next to him, turned to Steve with eyes wide in disbelief. Steve couldn't stop staring at the headline along the bottom of the screen: _PLAYBOY BILLIONAIRE CONFIRMS ENGAGEMENT TO LONGTIME FRIEND._

"How the hell did she move on so fast?" Bucky asked quietly, sounding stunned. Steve shook his head slowly.

"And with… Tony? That's gotta be a mistake… maybe she's not the longtime friend he's engaged to?" He suggested lamely.

As if knowing just the right time to butt in and prove him wrong, the host, Kathy Matherson, laughed fakely and asked loudly, "Tell me, Mr. Stark, what about Natasha Romanoff here is so appealing that you got engaged after a month of dating?" Not needing to hear anymore, Steve forcefully clicked the TV off and pulled out his phone frantically, dialling Natasha's number with Bucky anxiously waiting beside him.

"Romanoff," she answered after the first ring.

"Nat!" Steve cried. "We just saw the interview- why the hell are you engaged to Tony, of all people?" He demanded, almost dreading the answer.

"He has balls." Natasha replied plain and simply.

Steve almost choked on the " _What_?" that slipped from his throat.

There was a sigh over the phone. "Steve, I needed somebody who was confident and not afraid to… well, do whatever they wanted. I'm a free spirit - now, if you've had enough with being protective over something you never had, I have things to do." Before hanging up before he had chance to respond.

Steve stared at the phone for a long, long time, wondering what drugs the writers of this fanfic were on.

IT'S RAMEN!

 **Lol- there were SO many ways we could have ended this, but in the end we just went with total crack :P**

 **Please leave us a review and/or prompt!**

 **Have a great day, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	17. Chapter 17

**CRASHING THE IRON WIDOW WEDDING**

 ** _Author's Note (VanillaAshes):_**

 ** _Woah, woah, woah! I did not expect that level of disrespect from the readers! And with some of you, your first review was a super negative and degrading response? Why? Why would you want that to be your first impression?_**

 ** _Regardless, I was outraged when Violet informed me of the bad reviews we received. I understand that most were jokingly mean - but then why not have the joke and then leave a PROPER review? I don't think I need to specify who I am mad at here._**

 ** _Violet and I write for fun - for enjoyment - and we decided to make a story entirely for our readers and reviewers - a WHOLE STORY full of prompts given to us by YOU! Tell me now why we should listen to a prompt from those of you who disrespected us?_**

 ** _There is only ONE person who has a right to be upset or anything with us, and that is the person who gave us the prompt - SportsFan64 - who was so graceful, joking and kind in their review._**

 ** _Did we go a bit over the top with the one-shot? Yes. Experiment with different couples and feelings? Absolutely! Did we have fun with it and enjoy the crazy story we were writing? Oh yes, we did!_**

 ** _Writing is sometimes very stressful, but I never thought that writing prompts for this story would offer us stress, because we don't have the interlocking stories, arcs, etc… But thank you for actually making this experience suck for a short while. Thank you for letting Violet wake up to hate - because even though she'd probably forgive you quickly, I will always remember._**

 ** _I am not usually an angry (or passive-aggressive) individual. But I was so shocked, and still am, by some of the reviews._**

 ** _Now, Violet has spoken to you all individually (apart from non-account reviews), and ensures me that you were joking. But… I'm the more sceptical one. So, in future, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all._**

 ** _We accept constructive criticism, but not outright insulting the whole fanfic._**

 ** _Obviously, the individual review might have not been that bad, and some of them weren't - but, combined with the others, it just made it all ten times worse._**

 ** _Now, I apologise for the long rant; it was probably unnecessary as Violet has already spoken to you, but sometimes, you need to rant. I did not want to rant to Violet about how enraged that response made me, so, here it is._**

 ** _Thank you to those who reviewed… And thank you so much to: NowYouAvengeHarryPotter, who was one of the only people who responded kindly and seemed to know it was a joke! And Sportsfan64, who also was one of the only people who responded kindly and showed us that they understood it was a joke._**

 ** _Also, it was Sportsfan64's prompt, and I talk to them so much, so I knew they wouldn't mind us playing around with it a bit! Also, pretty sure they helped give me the idea of Nat and Bucky :P_**

 ** _Finally, FlyOneHeart - who didn't attack the story at all and gave us our idea for a second part._**

 ** _Now, please enjoy the over-the-top, even crazier second part to chapter 16 - which we wrote especially for all of you! Thank you for reading._**

* * *

Steve could barely get his legs to work as he groaned, sitting up in his bed. It was past noon, but today he didn't care that he'd slept in, or that he'd been asleep since eight yesterday morning. He was too depressed to move, so he didn't bother going to the bathroom - he was a super-soldier; he could hold in over a day's worth of pee.

He glanced over at the picture of the love of his life, sitting innocently on his nightstand. With her perfect hair and her perfect eyes and her perfect perfection. It was an old picture, one where she was eating a piece of toast, back when she had a perm - " _We will never speak of that time ever again, Stephen!" -_ and had a habit of wearing her leather tactical suit to bed. A single majestic tear rolled down his face as he gently brushed his fingers against the cool glass. He loved her more than his battered heart could bear.

She was getting married today, and it wasn't to him.

It was to Tony Stark.

She was going against their fate - _they were destined to be together, dammit! -_ and hooked up with the rascal rich boy instead of Steve, the jock with a heart of gold. And all of that after basically choosing Steve's best friend over him.

Steve felt betrayed, like she'd stabbed him - not in the back, but in the heart. And the face. And maybe his pinkie toe.

He bit his lip to try and hold in the sob bubbling up in his throat, but it escaped nonetheless and he cried outright, still looking incredibly manly regardless of the snot and tears running down his perfectly-sculpted face. He couldn't take being away from Natasha, his beloved! It caused him physical pain to be apart!

Not being able to take it anymore, he jumped to his feet, face magically dry of tears as he came to a conclusion: the only logical thing he could do right now was to crash the wedding and steal Natasha from Tony.

With this genius plan in mind, he sprinted to the garage to find the flashiest vehicle.

* * *

Natasha fluffed out the many layers of her princess-style wedding dress before turning to look at Pepper - her maid of honor. Her face was glowing with joy over the upcoming wedding with her one true- well… Tony. It was every little girl's dream to grow up, have a huge wedding and marry the man of their dreams. That wasn't Nat's dream as a little girl - it might have been slowly killing every adult she came in counter with and eventually feasting on a dragon... but that wasn't possible, so a big wedding seemed fun.

The final touches were added to her whole outfit as she took her bouquet and romantically walked down the aisle to her knight in… well, to Tony.

She got there, facing her soon-to-be-husband, and smiled. She honestly didn't think they'd get this far, but there were worse people she could get married to - also, he'd already updated her Black Widow suits. However, he did make her promise to not kill him on their wedding night, so… there was that.

The ceremony started and when the priest recited the words, "If there be anybody who knows a reason why this man and woman should not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace," the church doors flew open as Steve came roaring in in his Captain America suit, on his motorbike, a giant American flag attached to the back and flowing majestically in his wake. He soared down the aisle, ripping all of the decorations and flowers off of the pews on the way before skidding to a halt in front of them.

"Nat!" He called, even though he was literally two feet away and didn't need to raise his voice. He jumped from the motorcycle and ran up to the pair.

"Steve?" Tony gasped, eyes wide. "What are _you_ doing here? I thought I told you to never show your face here again!" Steve scowled.

"I don't care about your stupid restraining order! It doesn't apply to a man in _love_!" He announced, kneeling by Natasha and taking her hand ceremoniously in his. "Natasha Alianova Badinka Something-or-Other Romanoff, I can't sit by and let you give your heart away to a man who would never appreciate it!" A single tear slid down his face. "I… I love you, Nat, and I always will. Please, will you marry _me_?"

Natasha took the fan conveniently placed to one side and fanned herself to cool down. "Steve, this is my _wedding day_ ," she informed him. "I'm not marrying you in that outfit - you'll have to change first. But then, sure."

Tony burst into tears and grabbed Steve by the suddenly-existing lapels on his uniform, getting right up in his face and growling. "You! First you dishonor my name, you tarnish my reputation, you murder my father, and then you ruin my wedding? I'll kill you!" He pulled a knife from his jacket sleeve and deftly jammed it into Steve's heart as Natasha had done previously - although Steve felt a slight difference, considering hers had been metaphorical and this was kind of, well, _real_. He choked on a gush of blood and raised a hand to stroke Natasha's cheek lovingly before falling to the ground, twitching, and dying.

"Oh, Tony! I never knew you'd kill for me! I always knew you were the one I was destined to marry… kind of. Can you forgive me? It was just so dramatic," Natasha said, throwing a hand over her forehead dramatically.

Tony spat on Steve's corpse and returned to the altar with a smirk. "Of course, my love. And I would kill many more for you."

And then Tony and Natasha got married and rode off into the sunset down the beach on a horse and carriage, living happily ever after.

* * *

Off in the distance, they didn't notice the shadowy figure watching them with narrowed eyes. A fully unharmed and alive Steve cracked his knuckles. "I will get you, my love, no matter who gets in my way."

 _ **Author's Note (Vanilla):**_ _ **Rereading the reviews, most of them weren't that bad apart from two or three. However, you did upset Violet as a whole and with everything going on in our busy lives, we don't have to write these, which just made me very indifferent about the whole situation - so, I've opted to leave the top rant in. But I've definitely calmed down (And writing the little story above might have helped to calm me down too).**_

 **Author's Note (Violet): Oooh! My big bad counterpart went all Hulk on you guys! Rule one of surviving in general: no matter how tame the stereotypes may make them seem, _do not upset the British_. Seriously though, I do agree with her AN above. While most of you had no ill intent when you left your reviews, and meant them only as jokes, many of them didn't _come off as_ jokes because you didn't leave any indication that you weren't being serious. While I can tolerate most of them because the chapter itself was rather… strange, the buildup of multiple _WTF?!_ reviews made it a little depressing. Especially the one from the guest that was posted, like, fifty minutes ago. Romanogerreader or whatever your guest name is, yours was RUDE. Please don't bother with the story anymore if you're going to be like _that_.**

 **Still, I'm mostly happy again! This was a little _too_ fun to write… watch out, WREI is becoming a soap opera!**

 _ **(Vanilla) Now we can get back to our actual chapters we have to write, which have now lost an entire day for being written.**_

 **(Violet): Now now, we've said our piece already, Van. You can slip out of Protective Big Sister mode :3**

 _ **(Vanilla) C'mon, Vio! *Hugs tightly* You know I can't turn off Protective Big Sister - it doesn't work like that.**_

 **(Violet): *is glomped* I know, I know. Anywho, Readers, have a fantabulous day and maybe send Van some virtual cookies so she forgives you guys sooner! (And me, too- I'm always up for some cookies!)**


	18. Chapter 18

**As suggested by Vylnet, here is Natasha finding Liho! As requested, also, by FlyOneHeart, here is more Liho in general! Hope you guys enjoy it!**

 **Also, a big thank you to everyone who either positively reviewed or reviewed in defense of Vanilla and I: _Sportsfan64, LilyRose14, FlyOneHeart, TheJollyRoger(after you came around :P), NowYouAvengeHarryPotter, Bree Colbern, looking for something new, Witchcraft12_ , and the Guest who reviewed yesterday. We appreciate your kindness and compassion and your ability to understand that what is said online can still very much affect those it's aimed at! You guys rock! **

**Because of all the hatred that *mostly Guests/anons* spewed for the past two chapters (you know, the people who can't seem to understand the meaning of the word CRACK or the phrase NOT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY), Vanilla and I will not be taking requests from Guests anymore. ( _specific Guest who I mentioned above: if you can find a way to distinguish yourself from the other anons in the future, we'll take prompts from you :)_ ) If you all think you can just vomit out whatever hateful words you can think of just because you were somehow offended by a little bit of humor, and then still expect us to write something for you, you're quite mistaken, friends. We would just exclude specific wrongdoers and not a whole chunk of people, but since they were too cowardly to use account names or distinguish themselves in the slightest, we can't tell who exactly we should be ignoring. If you are a friendly Guest, this is not meant to offend you, and we're sorry it has to affect you at all.**

 **Anywho, now on to the prompt!**

Natasha perked up as she heard a meow and bent away from Steve - who had been leaning in for a kiss at the end of their date - to see a little black cat. She'd never been all that interested in other living things, but there was something about this cat that caught her attention. One of her neighbors must have gotten it recently as she had never seen it before.

When the cat started to approach them, she stepped away from Steve and bent down, holding out her hand.

Steve made an indignant sound. "Don't leave me hanging for a cat, Natasha!" He scolded, although it was without heat.

"You can wait a little longer," she said with an amused, gentle tone as she began to stroke the cat whilst strategically checking for a collar. Her eyebrows furrowed together when she couldn't locate one - who doesn't put a collar on their new pet?

Steve sighed in reluctant defeat and knelt down beside her. "That is a _thin_ cat. Does he have an owner?"

Natasha frowned and picked him up. "I don't know; let's go upstairs and see if he's microchipped." She said, standing back up.

"Wait- you have a microchip-sensor-thingy? Why?" Steve asked in an disbelieving tone. "Do you find yourself in this situation _that_ often?"

"No. I just _have_ one," Natasha answered without actually answering his question - she wasn't sure he'd appreciate the real reason for her owning one. They walked up to the top floor of the apartment building and into her kitchen where she held out the cat to him. "Hold him for a minute, will you?"

Steve hesitantly accepted the cat into his arms, looking alarmed when the feline started hissing and squirming to get out of his grip. He scrambled to keep the cat in his arms, his arms getting decently scratched up in the process. "Nat, hurry up- this cat is a demon!"

Natasha waved her arms dismissively as she climbed up onto one of the shelves to retrieve her sensor before jumping down and attempting to scan the cat - which only made things worse for Steve. She huffed slightly. "He's not microchipped." She grumbled, taking the cat back into her arms.

"Wonder why…" Steve grumbled grumpily, nursing his wounds. "So now what? Take him to a shelter?"

"No, they'd lock him up and then kill him." Natasha replied with a frown. "We'll feed him and send him back out; he's survived this far, he'll be fine - I have some tuna in the bottom cupboard."

Steve groaned. "Nat, you know the rule- don't feed a stray unless you want it to keep coming back to you for _ever_. And _I_ , for one, don't particularly like the idea of being assaulted by that thing's smelly ass every time I come over." He grumped. "He's so poorly behaved!"

Natasha glared at him and retrieved the tuna with one hand. "Then don't come over." She stated before opening the tuna and emptying half of it onto a paper plate and putting both the plate and the cat down. She then filled up a paper bowl of water and put it beside them. "I'm not going to just let the cat starve."

He looked like he was about to argue, but one look at the skin-and-bones cat and he was closing his mouth with a sigh. "Fine, fine. But if that cat gives me rabies or fleas, I will _not_ be pleased."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Aww, is the big strong superhero scared of a little scrap?" She teased.

He glared at her. "Scared, no. Nauseated by, yes." He retorted, crossing his arms. When he saw the cat rub against Natasha in thanks, purring loudly, he groaned. "Why does he like _you_ so much but tries to murder _me_?"

"Maybe he can sense fear," she continued to tease. Glancing at the cat for a second, she turned back to Steve. "Shall we continue our date?"

He didn't need to be asked twice and stepped closer, closing the gap between their lips- only to jerk back with a yelp of pain. The cat had buried his claws into Steve's shoe and, subsequently, his toes. "Dammit, cat! What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" He snapped, looking like he was tempted to kick the feline away from himself.

"Back away from the cat," Natasha said warningly, saving the poor thing from Steve. "What is it with you and cats? Were you a dog in a past lifetime?"

Steve scowled at her. "I'll have you know that I _like_ cats. This cat doesn't like _me_. He's kind of an asshole." The cat hissed at him and Steve crossed his arms in frustration. "Why are you taking _his_ side? He's attacking me unprovoked!"

"Maybe if you stop insulting him, he might like you," Natasha suggested. She stroked the cat, smoothing his little hairs all in the same direction and noting that he didn't appear to be that dirty - especially for a cat who supposedly lived on the streets. It was possible that he had a new owner who was helping and hadn't had chance to get his weight up or tag him yet.

He groaned and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Hey, I was all for helping him- then he attacked me! And it's not like he understands an insult, anyway!" He was starting to fidget under the cat's sudden intense stare, and that was amazingly hilarious.

Natasha chuckled slightly. "Maybe we should call it a night - but I'll see you tomorrow?" She suggested.

Steve let out a sigh and nodded. "Alright. Just… if it starts trying to eat you, toss that sucker right out the window- got it?" He instructed.

With a scoff, Natasha agreed to the terms. Holding the little cat close her to chest, she planted a quick kiss onto Steve's lips. "Bye, Steve - thanks for a great night."

"Oh, anytime." He replied with a small smile, less tense than a minute earlier. "You're not replacing me with him, are you?" He suddenly asked, tone teasing.

Natasha laughed, placing a hand on his chest. "Of course not; I don't think anybody can replace you."

The cat, apparently, thought otherwise, and was all too happy to express it.

* * *

Natasha sighed as she brought the flashlight over Liho's flank once more - the little brown bugs crawling over his skin were unmistakable. Her new pet had fleas. She still wasn't sure how old he was - his being severely underweight made it hard to estimate based on size - but he seemed to still be rather young, so she figured the best and cheapest way to get rid of the problem would be to give him a bath and use a flea comb on him to avoid using chemicals. The problem was that Liho showed a rather strong dislike of any water not in a bowl small enough to drink from. She was certain he would _hate_ getting a bath.

So she called in her trusty backup. "Steve." She greeted succinctly as soon as he picked up the phone. "I need your help."

"What is it?" Steve asked immediately, some shuffling on his end following his voice.

She almost wanted to roll her eyes at how quickly he seemed to assume that she was in some kind of danger - as if she would call him to save her like some stupid knight in shining armor. "Liho has fleas."

"Okay…" Steve said with confusion.

"Come here and help me pry them off of him." Well, there wouldn't really be _prying_ involved, but she loved making Steve squirm.

There was a few seconds of silence. "I'm in the middle of something right now… can it wait?"

"No." She hung up without giving him a chance to reply, knowing that his stupid morals wouldn't allow him to to just not come without giving her a reason. If she didn't let him _give_ a reason, he had to come.

She was proven right when he was knocking on her door not ten minutes later. How did she know it was him on the other side of the door? Liho began hissing almost instantly, something he never did when anyone else - on the rare occasion - decided to stop by. This was going to be entertaining, she could already tell. "Thanks for coming." She said automatically as she let him in.

"You're welcome," Steve replied automatically. He hung up his motorbike jacket and placed his helmet to one side before turning to face her expectantly.

She clapped her hands together before announcing, "Alright, here's the game plan. I've got a brand-new bottle of Dawn soap and a flea comb. I'll fill up the tub while you restrain him and make sure he doesn't freak out when he hears the water. Then you use your super manly strength and force him into the water while I scrub him and comb him."

Steve looked at her like she was crazy. "That sounds like an awful plan - he's not even your cat! Why not just take him to the vet or let him run the fleas off?" He sighed, probably having his morals kick in before she even had to say anything. "Fine. Where is he?"

Natasha didn't need to tell him that Liho was slowly stalking up behind him, because her precious baby saved her the trouble by pouncing on Steve and latching onto the back of his leg. She held in a laugh as Steve jumped in surprise before making an outraged sound at the cat, who kept his claws buried in Steve's leg and glared up at him. "Right, you keep ahold of him while I go fill the tub." She turned on her heel and headed for the bathroom before he could protest.

As she ran the taps and made sure the temperature was perfect, the sounds of Steve struggling to keep Liho in his grip drifted into the bathroom. She rolled her eyes. "Alright, come on in!" She summoned.

Steve walked in holding Liho with one hand around his midsection, with only the hand keeping him being attacked. "I'm ready." If this were anybody other than Steve, Natasha would have interpreted that look as wanting to drown the cat in the bathtub, not wash it.

"Okay, just hold him in the water so he can't jump out of the tub- then he might try to break through the window again. I'll take care of the fleas." She worked quickly, shampooing the kitten and then running the flea comb through his fur, rinsing it off in the soapy water whenever it came up with a flea between its bristles. A small part of her felt proudly victorious at the end, at the sight of over twenty drowned fleas in the water. She double-, then triple-checked the cat for any stragglers, found none, and told Steve to carefully put Liho in a towel.

While it had been Nat who had performed most of the 'torture', Liho still looked ready to exact his revenge on Steve for it. "Look, he's purring at you." Even though it was clearly an 'I'm about to kill you' growl.

"We both know that's a growl," Steve pointed out. "What are you doing with him now?" He asked, still holding the kitten securely, just in the towel this time.

"I was thinking of just letting him down so he can air-dry. Go ahead, put him down." She encouraged.

Steve shook his head. "That's not going to happen, and I meant more longterm. Or now, if he's staying here, I should probably go so he doesn't slit my throat in the middle of the night."

"His claws are much too tiny to puncture your stupidly thick skin." She retorted teasingly, taking the kitten from him and hugging him to her chest. "And he's staying." She added. "Besides, they say animals have a better sense of peoples' character… maybe he's trying to tell me you're unworthy of my affections."

"Or he's just a feral cat," Steve pointed out. "I'll leave you two alone to get settled, but I'll see you tomorrow." He started to lean in but thought better of it as he looked at the cat. "Love you," he said instead of kissing her before leaving.

Natasha sighed, but there was only fondness in it, and she held Liho up to look him in the eyes. "Don't you listen to him- he's just a grumpy old man." Liho licked his nose in agreement.

 **Ah, Liho! Gotta love that little guy!**

 **The second scene is unique because for the first time EVER, Vanilla and I switched roles: she was Steve this time while I was Natasha. I've actually had to cleanse a cat of fleas before, so we thought it best if I was the one speaking from experience and she the reaction one.**

 **Thanks for reading and please leave us a review/prompt!**

 **Have a fantabulous day, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	19. Chapter 19

**And here it is, folks! The long time in the making, extremely long chapter completely dedicated to the twins! We'd like to thank everyone who contributed a prompt to us: Guest, Jadzia Lillian Potter, RomanogerLaucifer, The Jolly Roger, and anyone else I might have missed! You guys are awesome!**

 **Without further ado, please enjoy one of our longest chapters, Twins.**

Steve was looking at Natasha holding both of their newborn babies. They were less than two hours old and their view of the world outside the single window was slowly darkening as it was getting later and he began to wonder what the plan was. It was getting late and it was pretty clear they'd be staying the night at the hospital, to make sure the twins were healthy and would be okay going more than two hours without being on a ventilator - apparently underdeveloped lungs weren't uncommon in twins, since they were usually born early and thus had less time to finish developing.

Still, even with all of these highly-trained doctors and other hospital staff surrounding the twins at all times, Steve felt this irrational need to watch their children to make sure no harm came to them. Would the babies be allowed to sleep in the room with Natasha?

The answer came when a nurse wheeled in two plastic cradles and placed them by the bedside, smiled, and left them alone once more. Steve sighed in relief- at least the twins wouldn't be in the NICU or anything like that. After the scare with James, the infants had been thoroughly examined and tested, but no obvious issues had been found.

He looked to Natasha again, who had one baby in each arm, and he noticed how her eyelids were starting to droop ever so slightly. He smiled gently and extended his arms. "You should get some rest - I'll look after them tonight."

"No, no, it's fine, I can do it," Natasha said, her eyes opening with determination as she looked down at the twins protectively.

While he externally frowned in concern, internally his heart swelled with love for her. She would be a wonderful mother, he knew it. "Nat, it's alright - you've had a rough day, and you need some sleep." He argued lightly, not wanting to get overly involved in an argument with the exhausted new mother of his children.

Natasha shook her head, but there wasn't very much energy in it. "I want to spend all the time with them… just in case…"

He knew she was afraid that something bad would happen to their children. He was sure that the multiple failed pregnancies had left some emotional scarring. He leaned forward and slipped his hand into hers. "They'll stay right here in this room, and I'll be watching over them the whole time. You've just given _birth_ , Nat - even if something _did_ happen, you wouldn't be able to do much, especially if you're drop-dead tired."

Her hand tightened around his, but the determination didn't change in her eyes. "It's just giving birth, Steve, happens every single day. Stop being so dramatic," she muttered. "I'm not tired; if something does happen, I'd rather not regret taking a pointless nap and missing anything." She countered.

"Nat…" he said, exasperated. "You look like you're about to pass out and drop them in the process. At least let me put them in their cribs so your arms are free - we can roll the cribs right up to you and keep them in arm's reach." He negotiated.

Natasha glared at him when he mentioned her dropping them - it didn't seem to matter how tired she was; if looks could kill, he would be dead right now. But, she let out a sigh anyway. "Okay, my arms are slightly tired." She agreed.

Without further prompting, Steve gently worked his hands under Sarah first, carrying her as though she were the most valuable, most breakable thing on earth. He kissed her forehead before delicately lowering her into the plastic crib, then repeated the process with James. The twins stayed sound asleep. "There we go."

"They're so small," she commented, pulling the cribs as close to her bed as she could and moving lie on the very edge of the mattress to be as close to them as possible. She then looked at Steve. "Come on, there's space here for you, too - you look tired."

He was reluctant to take up any space of hers - as much as she downplayed it, she'd just given _birth_ \- but the idea was too appealing, so he scooted over to sit right next to her and looked down at the little miracles they'd created. "They're beautiful."

Natasha tugged him to lay down with her, but her eyes were mostly on the twins. "Is it bad that I want one of them to cry so I can pick them up and calm them down?" She questioned softly.

He settled in beside her and held her close with a smile. "If it is, I must be a terrible person." He admitted. They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, and he was pleased to see, when he looked down at her a few minutes later, that she was out cold against his side. He was glad she was finally getting some rest - although he knew that even a single noise would have her awake again, ready to protect their precious little treasures.

* * *

Natasha didn't bother to even stifle her yawn as she carried little James into the base, leaving Steve to carry Sarah and the bag they'd taken to the hospital with them. She kicked open any door in her way until finally walking into her and Steve's room - which was almost like a mini apartment - and noticed that there was a new door where her old closet used to be. She furrowed her eyebrows and moved to that door, gently kicking it open. Seeing the fully equipped nursery on the other side of it, she knew she would have to thank Tony at some point.

Natasha wandered into the room and slowly put James into the white crib, slipping the supplied blanket over him with a smile. It was only after she stood up that she realized she'd put James on the 'girly side' of the room; but firstly, she didn't care about wrapping him in pink, and secondly, she was far too tired to care. It wasn't like she'd mix up the two babies - there was an _obvious_ difference.

She turned around to see Steve at the door of the nursery with Sarah, walking carefully to avoid waking their daughter while looking around in awe. "This is almost nicer than _our_ room." He commented with a small laugh, slowly lowering Sarah into the blue crib, not questioning the color confusion even though he clearly wanted to say something about it, judging by his raised brows and small smirk.

"Yeah… but our room has…" She drifted off, walking out of the nursery and practically falling onto the double bed. "This." It was a relief to be back in her own bed again, although she let out a groan after making impact- every single muscle from her ribcage down was unbelievably sore.

"You can say that again," Steve agreed, settling in next to her and closing his eyes, even though it was barely noon. "What is it about being in a hospital that makes you so _tired_?"

Natasha let out a whoosh of air as she found a spot that was comfortable, with the least amount of pain possible. "I think, for me, it was more pushing a six-pound two-ounce and a six-pound four-ounce baby out of my womb!" Just then, one of the babies started crying - she liked to think she knew it was Sarah, but really wasn't sure. "Go." He didn't move. "Go get the baby! Before it wakes the other one!" She ordered, pointing lazily to the nursery. All she wanted to do was close her eyes for a few minutes.

Steve groaned, but did as told, trudging into the nursery. "Sare, could you possibly cry just one octave lower? Enough to not destroy my eardrums?" He asked, seconds later coming back into their bedroom. "I think she's hungry." He sat on the bed beside Natasha and waited until she was upright before handing the squirming baby to her.

And she had just been comfortable. She pushed herself up into a very _uncomfortable_ position and took her daughter. She wondered if one was allowed to nap whilst breastfeeding.

A few seconds after that, Steve was called into the nursery yet again by a very disgruntled James. "No, seriously, could you please stay asleep for more than five minutes at a time, son?" Steve questioned rhetorically. "How are we supposed to care for you when we're in even worse shape than you?" He carried the boy back in and sat beside Natasha before carefully positioning James so he could eat as well. For a few blissful minutes, there was a lack of crying.

* * *

Steve was happily resting his head against the wall as he sat beside Natasha, enjoying the semi-quiet for as long as he could. And then his phone started vibrating in his pocket. Sighing, he pulled it out, reading the caller ID before answering. "Hello?" It came out sounding _really_ tired, something he hoped Bucky would pick up on.

"Stevie-boy, I don't appreciate being kept out of the loop." Bucky scolded teasingly, though there was definitely some annoyance there. "Your last update was _two hours ago_! Are you back yet? Anything exciting happen?" Steve rolled his eyes and put the phone on speakerphone, adjusting the volume slightly before carelessly tossing it onto the mattress beside him and leaning his head back against the wall again.

"We literally _just_ got home. As for anything exciting happening… Nat, anything we can update him on?" He asked her, too tired and annoyed to deal with this question _again_.

"Sarah has a bigger appetite. Oh, and fuck off if you ever personally want the chance to make your own children." Natasha replied super casually.

Bucky was quiet for a few seconds. "Okay, so maybe now's a bad time… how about la-"

" _WE_ will call _YOU_. _Tomorrow_." Natasha answered, grabbing Steve's phone, hanging up and chucking it across the room. "No more calls."

Steve weakly raised a hand to wave it off. "Yeah, good idea."

* * *

Natasha let out a yawn; she was pretty sure she had never been _this_ tired ever before. Her ears were ringing with the cries of her two 'bundles of joy'. She pushed herself up and it took her a few seconds to realize how quiet it was - neither of the babies were crying.

A sigh of relief left her as she made her way to the bathroom. After visiting the bathroom - which wasn't the pain-free task she desperately missed - she stepped into the nursery, deciding to check on the twins while she was already up.

Panic instantly filled her when she noticed that the first crib she looked in was _empty._ Where had her baby gone? She quickly stepped over to the other, checking she hadn't lost both, only to see them both in the same crib. Taking a breath, she watched both of their little chests move up and down as they breathed softly.

As if on cue, James' face screwed up, and before he even got a note of sound out, Natasha picked him up and nestled him against her chest. "Hey, big boy." She paused, checking his diaper. "Let's change you, eh? Can't be nice in that diaper."

Natasha was almost disappointed when James went right back to sleep after being put in a new diaper, but she reluctantly set him back down beside his twin sister. She only allowed herself to wait a few moments, willing one of them to wake up before returning to her bed.

Even though she and Steve hadn't discussed it, she was now on baby duty so he could rest. But one thing was for sure: if given the chance, she could sleep for _hours._

As she closed her eyes, yearning for a few more uninterrupted minutes of sleep, Sarah began to cry.

Next to her, Steve stirred and let out what she could only describe as a whine. "Do I have to go?" He asked rather pitifully.

"No, no. I'll get her." Natasha replied, patting his head before sliding back out of bed. She walked into the nursery. "Couldn't you have cried whilst I was in here?" She asked, picking up Sarah - unfortunately, it had woken James up, too. Now _that_ made things a bit trickier. She managed to pick them both up, working out that Sarah was hungry - again - and James was just whiny.

She sighed and carried them into the bedroom. "Steve, snuggle the baby." She said, placing James on Steve's chest to feed Sarah more effectively.

"Mmkay," Steve sighed, arms coming up to keep the infant on his chest. James made a few of the grunting sounds that seemed exclusive to newborns before he was finally placated and fell silent. Steve appeared to already be in that stage halfway between sleep and wakefulness, kept from falling completely asleep only by his need to keep his arms positioned just so to keep the baby from falling off of him.

Sarah settled into eating before falling asleep whilst Natasha was burping her. That little thing there made Sarah her favorite right now, because, so far, she would always fall asleep during burping - however, burping seemed to wake James up, who fell asleep during feeding. Babies were weird.

Instead of standing back up, she laid down, much like Steve, with Sarah on her chest and after a few moments, began to rest her eyes - she knew this peacefulness of four in the bed wouldn't last long, but for now, she didn't care.

* * *

Steve yawned as he pulled the tiny shoe onto James's foot- considering it would be a very long time until the little guy would be walking, Steve found shoes for newborns to be rather pointless. However, Tony had bought plenty of them and Natasha insisted it was best to make use of them 'to keep their feet warm', so dressing the infant took longer than usual as he was very squirmy. Finally, Steve picked the baby up again and grabbed the white and green diaper bag before meeting up with Natasha at the door, Sarah in her arms. They left their apartment together and began their first real venture into the outside world of the Avengers base with their children.

"You're gonna meet your Uncle Bucky, and Aunt Wanda, and Uncle Sam…" Steve was muttering to the twins as they strolled, enjoying being able to stretch his legs and breathe some fresh air- they might still have been inside, but at least they weren't confined to the same few rooms for a while.

"We're not going to call them all Uncle and Aunt, right?" Natasha asked, looking at him completely confusedly, the tiredness evident on her face.

Equally tired, Steve shook his head. "That's too much work. Scott is their… second cousin, twice removed, and adopted, so we'll just stick to 'Scott' for short." He said, adjusting his grip on James when the boy decided that the best course of action when being held several feet in the air was to wriggle around like some sort of insect on steroids. After Steve pulled him closer against his body, James stilled and passed out again.

Natasha used the burp rag to clean up their daughter's dribbles seconds before Sam rounded the corner at the end of the hallway.

"Babies! Can I hold one?" He asked, completely forgetting about the two parents as he approached them.

Steve gladly passed his son off to Sam, who held him like a natural. "That's James, and this is Sarah." He introduced, pointing to the baby Natasha was rocking slightly to calm.

Sam smiled. "They're gorgeous." He complimented, looking down into James's face. "He's got your eyes, Steve, and Nat's nose. And look at that _hair_!" He ran a gentle hand through the pale wisps. Steve raised a brow, wondering when Sam had transformed into the doting softie before them.

Natasha soothed Sarah and looked at them. "Sorry, Sam, looks like Sarah is literally scared shitless of you." She said, walking off to change the older twin's diaper.

Steve almost laughed at Sam's face. "Hey, at least James likes you!" He consoled, snickering. James chose that moment to cry, so he took the baby back while Sam just shrugged.

"Don't worry, after a few years of me spoiling them rotten, they'll learn to love me." Sam joked, beginning to walk off. "Congrats again, man!"

Steve sighed, alone in the hallway except for the squirming boy in his arms. "You'd better be nice to Uncle Sam." He said mock-sternly. "He's delicate- he doesn't have a girlfriend to love him, so you two had better learn to love him." James yawned cutely and that was the end of _that_ discussion.

Natasha returned and her brows furrowed. "What happened to Sam?" She inquired, looking around for him.

"He had to get going to… wherever he goes in his free time." Steve explained. "Wanna swap babies for a bit? I feel like we've limited ourselves to each holding only one." He extended James carefully to her.

With another puzzled look, she willingly swapped children with him. "If James needs his diaper changing I will not be impressed." She informed him, adjusting her hold on their son securely, with the littlest effort.

Steve pressed a little kiss to Sarah's head as they resumed walking. "Nah, I just thought they might have wanted a bit more variety." He informed her cheekily. "So who should we stick them on next?"

"How about we swing past the bedrooms; see who's there?" Natasha suggested, bumping shoulders tiredly with him. "It'll be more comfortable than a hallway or the gym."

"Sure- Wanda would be in her room about now, right? Why don't we drop in for a visit?" Steve suggested, smiling slightly.

He received a nod in reply as they fell into step with each other. Natasha gently kicked open a few doors on the way, but all of the rooms were empty until they came to Wanda's. Nat's foot pressed against it before pushing it up, which prompted a stunned Vision to instantly float up and hover in the middle of the room and Wanda to freeze for a split second - however, Wanda didn't stay frozen for long as she jumped up at the sight of them.

"Hey, I didn't know you were out and about." Wanda greeted. "How are you both feeling? And how are the little ones?" An almost sad look crossed her face as she looked at the twins.

Steve leaned Sarah slightly so her face was more visible. "Why don't you ask them yourself? Here's Sarah, and that's James." He introduced, not being able to hold back a smile at Wanda's look of wonder as she studied the babies. "As for us, well… let's just say that we might be calling on you to babysit the night shifts very soon." He added with a chuckle, reminding himself of how tired he currently was.

Vision hovered over to study the twins as well. "They are quite handsome offspring." He offered with an awkward smile that Steve returned just as awkwardly. "And they appear to be in good health."

Wanda smiled as her finger gently stroked Sarah's cheek, before turning and doing the same to James. "They look so alike right now." She commented.

"Want to hold James?" Natasha offered, and at Wanda's nod, handed the child over.

"What about you, Vision? Wanna hold Sarah?" Steve asked the humanoid, who looked hesitant, looking to Wanda with wide, questioning eyes.

"I'm afraid that would be a mistake- I'll end up hurting the child."

Steve raised a brow. "Vision, if I thought you were capable of hurting a baby, I wouldn't be offering for you to hold ours. It's easy- just make sure you support her head and hold her close to you." He ignored Vision's protests and maneuvered the baby into his arms. "See? That's it." Vision stared down at Sarah, who stared up at him, and he hesitantly began to rock her.

"This isn't as difficult as I'd anticipated." Vision observed, shooting Wanda a glance.

Wanda's eyes were tearing up and she stepped closer to Vision, eyes darting between the twins. "You won't ever be separated - I'll make sure of that." She promised them quietly but firmly, eyes watery.

Natasha shot Steve an awkward look.

Steve hated seeing people cry- especially people like Wanda, who were still so young and lost-looking. "And you'll do a great job of it." He assured the girl gently. "You're their honorary aunt."

She smiled softly and handed Natasha James back. "Thanks." She muttered. Vision followed suit, looking concerned for Wanda.

Natasha moved James onto her left arm and gently squeezed Wanda's shoulder. "How about we leave you two for a while and come back later?" She suggested, receiving a grateful nod in return.

Steve carefully took Sarah back, grateful to have the less fussy of the two babies for the moment, and pulled her close. They carefully closed Wanda's door behind them and resumed their walk down the hallway. "Who do you want to meet next, huh?" He asked the infant in his arms, who cooed and waved her arms in reply. Sighing, he looked to Nat, just as his stomach rumbled. "Okay, why don't we stop for a lunch break?" He suggested, knowing she had to be starving by now.

She nodded, although it looked like she'd prefer a nap - not that she'd ever say so. "Sure. Something really unhealthy, before I have to start watching what I eat and getting back to my real shape."

Steve couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Alright, then- to the kitchen!" Once they were in the kitchen, Steve took James into his arms as well while Nat procured plenty of foods for them to pig out on. They'd mostly been stuck in their room for the past few days, so their food had always had to be portable and unmessy. Steve sat at the table, arms full of babies, and gratefully handed Sarah over to Nat once the food was on the table. "Man, forget manners- I'm starving!" He dug right in.

Natasha rested Sarah on her legs, and Steve copied her; it was a relief how they just laid there - he had a feeling that it would only be a matter of weeks before they could roll and this wouldn't be possible. Natasha was faster than him when it came to starting to eat, but he soon beat her with the amount.

"Woah, not so fast!" Natasha suddenly scolded.

Steve blinked in confusion before turning around and seeing Bucky trying to sneak past the kitchen doorway.

"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you." Bucky said, walking in and then looking at the little bundles with wonder.

Steve smiled at his awestruck expression. "No, it's totally fine- you've saved us a trip, at least. Come meet them." He couldn't wait to tell Bucky his son's name- they'd kept the names they'd chosen under wraps specifically for this moment.

Bucky didn't need to be asked twice and made a beeline for the babies, crouching down to get a better look at them. "Oh, wow- they're beautiful." He said with a smile, gently stroking Sarah's cheek. "What are their names?" Steve could almost feel his smile growing in anticipation.

"Well, that's Sarah." He started. Bucky brightened.

"Oh, after your mother?" He asked. Steve chuckled.

"No- after her friend, actually." Bucky raised a brow but nodded.

"And who's this little guy?" Steve adjusted his hold on James so Bucky could see him better, smile almost splitting his face.

"This, Bucky," he said eagerly, "is James."

Bucky's mouth almost dropped open, but he quickly closed it and fixed him with a suspicious glance. "Alright, I wanna be vain and say he's named after me, but before I do that and risk making a total fool of myself- does she have another friend named James, or are you suddenly _really_ close to Rhodey, or…?" Steve laughed.

"Of course it's you, _James_ \- there could be a thousand other Jameses in this room and you'd still be the only one that _that_ _man right there_ would ever name our child after." Natasha inputted before picking up a bottle of water and sipping from it greedily.

Steve chuckled and nodded in agreement, enjoying watching Bucky's expression of awe return. He inhaled softly, looking at the baby with wide eyes before turning to Steve. "I'm honored, Stevie." He said quietly. Steve patted his back.

"Well you know what this means, right? Your first child is gonna be Steve." He teased. Bucky shook his head.

"Yeah, uh, no." Steve made a mock-hurt look.

"I'm so offended! That's it, he's now named after Rhodey."

Natasha scoffed. "Oh, no- if he's not named after Bucky, then I'm naming him after Clint." She notified him, and he knew she was serious.

Bucky sighed. "Alright, my first daughter will be Stevalina. Happy?" Ever the peacekeeper.

"Hm… I suppose that's good enough for me."

* * *

Vision watched Steve and Nat leave with their newborn children and turned to Wanda, who was visibly upset. When Wanda's hand rested on his arm for balance, he quickly put an arm around her waist and led her over to the bed. "Is meeting children a sad occurrence?" He asked, trying to work out if he had acted incorrectly.

"No… it's just…" She drifted off, sitting down and running a hand over her face. "They're twins, a boy and a girl… it's just bringing back memories."

Vision took a seat next to her. "What memories?" He inquired.

"With Pietro." She paused. "He was always there… only twelve minutes older than me. But now…"

"He's dead." He added, which only made her worse.

"I feel so lonely all the time." Wanda admitted, almost defeated. "I know that there are others around me, and you're here, and I really, really do appreciate it, but… without Pietro, I just feel so lost and broken and…" She drifted off, tears flowing down her cheeks.

Vision looked just as lost as she'd proclaimed herself to be. "I'm sorry." He finally said. "Your brother meant a lot to you, and being separated after a life together… I cannot begin to fathom how that must feel."

"It feels like somebody ripped me open, took everything that made me myself… I'm just a shell."

"A meaningful shell. An intelligent shell. A shell with plenty of people who care for her." Vision pointed out softly.

Wanda sniffled, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her t-shirt. "It's not the same; he was my only family and… I know I've got you, and Steve, and Nat, and everybody, and you are all like my family, but… I miss my brother."

Vision didn't reply to that, simply put a hand on her shoulder to offer silent support.

* * *

Natasha ended up going back to full training when the twins were six weeks old - she knew some people thought it was too soon, but seeing as she was always in the same building as her babies and their father, she didn't see it as an issue. But it did mean she had a busy schedule. Even though the twins were drinking breast milk, she wasn't actually breastfeeding them anymore, having pumped the milk and slowly moved them onto bottles for the past two weeks. This made it so much easier for both her and Steve in general - also, Natasha liked the extra bit of freedom.

By the time the twins were eight weeks, there was a solid schedule set between her and Steve and twins. Natasha's days started at four a.m., which was usually when the twins would wake up for the first time - they still required feeding every three hours, but soon that would be four hours- well, after another six weeks. So she fed the twins on her own, changed their diapers and put them back to bed before pumping enough milk for the next three feedings then - if she could. Then she would have a shake and go for her long morning jog for two hours before heading to the kitchen for breakfast. This was usually when she saw Bucky and occasionally other members of the team - but it was usually right before seven in the morning.

Today was no different as she saw him already seated. She was, however, shocked to discover that Bucky had gotten her cereal ready for her. "Good morning, Bucky. Thank you."

"Morning, Natasha," he replied, giving her a nod in recognition of her thanks. "Did you sleep well?"

Natasha nodded; she and Steve had worked out their schedules to ensure that they both managed to get some sleep. "I did- and you?"

Bucky nodded and they fell into a comfortable silence. Some days they had found themselves talking in depth about the children, Steve, future plans, the Avengers and life itself. Today was not one of those days, and it was perfect - in a way, being able to sit and not talk to somebody comfortably was a huge step in becoming close with them; obviously as friends in this case.

Steve wandered into the kitchen just after seven-twenty, which was the latest time yet - both of the children had already been fed, burped and changed. Natasha took James from him, giving him a little snuggle as Steve handed Sarah to Bucky. After a few minutes of exchanging conversation with Steve - and after he had collected his breakfast - she handed James back to Steve before heading to the gym.

Natasha would then spend five hours training; at least two hours of it was by herself, but she trained with the whole team pretty much nonstop. She only stopped when it was nearly one and she was needed to feed the babies. It was also when she and Steve swapped places, giving Steve five hours solid to train - or the equivalent. He mainly did group workouts and helped the team - but, then again, that was his job.

They met up again in the early evening and had dinner together - without fail, they would eat together and spend the last hours of the day together. She always went to sleep before him, always, and even though she hadn't told anybody, she did miss the times when they'd fall asleep together. However, raising two little twins and still training as part of the Avengers meant sacrifices - right now, she couldn't complain.

* * *

Steve watched Nat leave sadly before turning to look at the two balls of trouble that were staring up at him expectantly. "Mommy just had to go to work for a bit." He explained needlessly- the twins were only two, so they didn't really care about the reasonings behind what their parents did- they just cared that, right now, their mother wasn't in their direct line of sight. Sarah, being a humongous 'mama's girl', immediately began to sniffle, clenching her chubby little fist around the chunk of macaroni she'd taken from her dinner plate. James, not one to be outdone, quickly joined in, wobbling his lip and fixing Steve with his puppy-dog eyes.

"Mama?" Sarah whimpered. Steve, already knowing that tonight was gonna be tough, sighed and picked her up from her highchair. To his chagrin, she dropped her fistful of noodles onto the floor. The girl rotated in his hold to point at the front door- the twins now knew which doors had been used by the sounds that had been made, something Steve was pretty impressed with. "Mama, _dere_!" She said forcefully, eyes watery. _Damn, here come the waterworks._ It didn't matter how long Natasha was gone- Sarah would _freak out_ until her mother returned.

"Yeah, she went bye-bye, but she'll be back soon." Steve crooned comfortingly, running his fingers through her curly hair to get some of the macaroni out of it.

James began slapping the tray of his highchair and kicking his legs. "Dow, Dada! Dow'!" He demanded. Internally groaning, Steve plopped Sarah down on her butt and lifted James- something the older twin was _not_ happy about. She began full-out crying while James was instantly calm in Steve's embrace- Sarah was a mama's girl, and James was a daddy's boy. Sometimes that came in handy, like now, when he _really_ didn't want to deal with two sobbing babies, but could also simultaneously bite him in the ass.

Steve adjusted his hold on James before crouching down and maneuvering Sarah into his other arm, standing and carrying them to the couch. "Kiddos, let's play something, huh?" He suggested with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. James clapped his hands and didn't object to being put down, while Sarah stopped crying for a moment to watch Steve curiously as he went to the toybox and rifled through its contents. "Wow, we have so many things to play with!" He called over his shoulder to keep their short attention spans on him.

"Dadadada!" James shrieked happily without provocation, making Steve wince- that boy had no concept of 'using your inside voice'.

"Dada, Mama _dere_!" Sarah insisted from behind him as he decided on grabbing the stacking rings. He knew from experience that she was pointing in the direction of the door once again. It was almost a compulsion of hers, it seemed, to stop whatever she was doing every few minutes when Natasha left and point in the direction of where she'd last seen her, making a small fuss. No matter how distracted she was, she would always remember that she was supposed to be upset about something.

"Yes, Sarah, Mama left. She'll be back soon." _Yeah, after you're long asleep,_ he added mentally with a groan. Leave it to Fury to come up with missions for Nat at the most inconvenient times.

The kids were delighted when he presented the toys he'd chosen to them- well, _James_ was thrilled; Sarah quieted her fussing and focused intensely on collecting as many of the plastic rings as she could before her younger twin could take any of them. They played rather peacefully for a few minutes before James got the bright idea to start throwing the rings he'd managed to snatch- at his already-grumpy twin. Steve almost rolled his eyes when one of the harmless rings bounced off of the little perfectly vertical ponytail on top of Sarah's head and she, of course, took extreme offense.

" _No_ , Jay!" She scolded, pointing a fat little finger at her giggling brother. James, not liking to be scolded by _anyone_ , let alone his big sister, stopped laughing immediately and scowled comically at her. Steve chose that moment to swoop in and intervene before James started spewing random babbling syllables that sounded dangerously close to being toddlerese insults.

"Alright, enough of that." Steve said gently, collecting the plastic rings and putting them away. "Let's play with… Crayons. That sound fun? Yeah?" Without waiting for a response, he grabbed some construction paper and a box of Crayons and laid it all out for the twins to use. "Alright, go ahead!" He encouraged once he'd dumped the crayons out. James picked up a blue one and began stabbing his paper happily, while Sarah gave the writing utensils one look and turned her nose up to them. Then, of course, her face dropped and she pointed at the door. "Mama _dere_! _Dere_!" Aaand there was the scheduled breakdown. Steve wondered if she had a little sticky note in her head somewhere to remind her to start fussing at least once every ten minutes.

Steve crouched down beside her, taking a purple crayon in hand and showing it to her. "Look, Sare! Your favorite!" He exclaimed. She cried " _No!"_ and clumsily tried to push his hand away.

" _No!_ " James repeated jovially. Steve looked over at him, quickly snatched the green crayon from his little hand before he could stick it in his mouth, and returned his efforts to the fussier twin.

"Sarah, please calm down." Because at this point she was sobbing again, and when James crawled over to poke her cheek curiously- Steve really needed to start teaching that boy how to be a proper gentleman- she _growled_ at him. "Hey, don't be mean, Sarah. Jimmy, leave your sister alone." He quickly corrected them. James, happy-go-lucky, laid-back James, was totally cool with crawling back over to his space and destroying his construction paper and just staying away from his melodramatic sibling- for once. For that, Steve was _oh so_ thankful.

"Mamaaa!" Sarah screamed, suddenly getting up on wobbly, chubby legs and making a break for the front door.

"Sarah!" Steve exclaimed, jumping up and going after her. He easily caught up with her and scooped her up, but she was quick to let out a strangled howling noise and start wriggling around, trying to escape. It was a struggle to keep her in his arms. "Come on, let's go play, okay?" He tried reasoning with her as he carried her back to the living room. Suffice to say, she didn't give a crap about any games- she just wanted her mother.

James, of course, was not there when they returned- _it's only been, what, twenty seconds? That kid…_ Steve groaned longsufferingly and put Sarah in her highchair with a few toys on her tray so she wouldn't disappear as well. Then he began the grueling task of searching for his ninja of a son, who was notorious for finding the most ridiculously hard-to-find hiding places and just… hanging out until someone _finally_ found him.

First he checked the bathroom on the first floor, including behind the toilet- _God knows how he managed to fit back there last time_ \- and in the cabinet under the sink, but there was no sign of the kid. Next was the kitchen- James wasn't in the pantry, in the cabinets, or under the dining room table. The backdoor was locked, so Steve wasn't worried that he'd gone outside. He kept calling James's name, demanding he show himself, but, as expected, James wasn't taking orders.

Ten minutes and a pair of dusty socks later, Steve still hadn't located his missing son- which was slightly worrisome. Where on earth could he have hidden? The front door was by the stairs, so Steve would've seen if James had made the climb after somehow managing to scale the safety gate at the foot of the steps. But he'd searched the entire first floor! Where else could he have gone? Taking a moment's break to check on Sarah, Steve went back into the dining room… to see James _helping Sarah escape from the highchair_. The tray had been removed- _how did I not hear that?_ \- and Sarah was hanging from the seat, slowly sliding down, little feet searching for purchase as she slowly got closer to the floor, James helpfully pulling on her leg to keep her moving.

"Are you kidding me? James Rogers, you little sneak!" Steve cried in exasperation. James looked up at him, wide-eyed and innocent. "Yeah, I'm talking to you, buddy. What on earth are you doing?" Steve scooped Sarah into his arms right before her feet touched the floor- she started crying again and pushing at his face in protest.

"Mama _dere_!" Ah, there that was again. Steve sighed and grabbed James as well, heading up the stairs. Forget trying to get them to play- it was time for a bath and then bed, because he needed the rest of the night to stabilize his sanity.

He closed the bathroom door behind him with his foot and then set the twins down- James plopped down onto his butt while Sarah ran over to the door and tried to reach for the doorknob; she was several inches too short, however, so Steve didn't have to worry about her possibly escaping. Although he'd thought the same thing about the highchair… Was _anyplace_ safe anymore? Still, he knew things would be better once he turned on the faucet.

True to his prediction, Sarah's mad scramble for freedom slowed to a stop as she whipped around and smiled widely, clapping her hands, previous mood completely forgotten. The only surefire thing to distract Sarah completely from her separation anxiety was the one activity that she loved the most- splashing Steve and James while enjoying the warmth of the water as she took a bath. She eagerly ran over to Steve as he sat on the side of the tub and she cooperated fully as he pulled off her pink onesie and diaper. She didn't even squawk in protest when he gently worked the little clip from her hair, something she hated as it caused her slight pain when the clip got tangled. She was overjoyed when he lifted her into the tub once the water level was acceptable and got straight to grabbing her pink cup from the side of the tub, filling it with water and pouring it on herself with lots of cute giggles.

James, on the other hand, began crying when he heard the telltale running of the bathwater. His face was beet red and covered in tears when it was his turn to get undressed. Steve stayed seated on the edge of the tub so he was able to reach Sarah, but this also put him at a disadvantage as James could back up against the door and out of his reach. "Jimmy, come here, kiddo." Steve instructed as kindly as possible. James shook his head and burrowed into the far corner. With a sigh, Steve stood and went to the boy, pulling off his clothes while the child kicked and screamed angrily.

"Dada _no!_ " The pitch of the scream made Steve wince, but he didn't relent and finally got the last of his clothes off before carrying James to the tub and putting him into the water. " _No! No baff!_ " James screamed, slapping his hands against the surface of the water. Steve ignored the giant wet spot now on his shirt and began the process of washing his unruly son. Sarah was all too happy to play off to the side with her favorite cup of all time, at one point trying to drink the water in it and tipping it too far, getting it in her eyes and nose. She coughed, but, unlike James, who demanded a towel to wipe his eyes every time a single drop got in them, she just went back to playing. The kid seriously loved water. Steve would have to talk with Nat about the possibility of Sarah going into competitive swimming someday.

James calmed down slightly when Steve began washing his hair, carefully massaging his scalp, but once Steve started rinsing the soap out… all hell broke loose. Steve's hand blocked most of the water from reaching James's face, but a few stray droplets got in his eyes and he screamed like he'd been stabbed. Steve wordlessly gave him a dry washcloth to wipe them with and then continued to wash the younger twin. The boy was all too eager to get out of the tub once he was clean, trying to scramble out when Steve moved on to Sarah, but since Steve couldn't watch them both if they separated, he made sure the boy couldn't climb out.

"Dada, ou'!" James protested, trying to sneak around Steve's leg, but Steve didn't budge, so the toddler pouted and sat back down in the warm water.

Sarah cooed the cutest little coo as Steve washed her hair, looking up at him with nothing short of adoration in her eyes, and Steve was pretty sure he melted. Well, internally, anyway. Externally he kept on washing her with his hands and blocking James with his leg.

"Jimmy, don't eat the bubbles!" He cried when James took a huge handful of suds and shoved them into his mouth. He immediately pulled a face and spat them out, and then he started sobbing again. "I told you not to." Steve reminded him as he quickly went to the sink, filled a cup with clean water, and handed it to the boy, who greedily drank all of it. While James was busy with that, Steve finished cleaning Sarah. She looked like she was having so much fun in the water, but, tempted as he was, Steve couldn't let her keep playing- James was in a frenzy to get out of the tub by this point, which meant that it was time for both twins to get out. James happily cooperated with Steve as he lifted him out and placed him on a towel, wrapping another one around him.

Sarah, on the other hand…

" _No! Dada, no! In! S'ay_ in!" She screeched, the sound bouncing off the walls and threatening to make Steve's ears start bleeding. He reached in and pulled her out of the water and she immediately started kicking her legs and screaming again.

James was easy to diaper and dress, while Sarah kept writhing away from her father's hands as he slowly made progress in dressing her. "Mama _dere_!" She shouted, pointing a fat little finger in the direction of the stairs. Oh boy.

"Yep, Mama was there." He agreed distractedly as he buttoned the last snap on her onesie and quickly ran a hairbrush through her tangled curls. Then he picked them both up and carried them into their shared bedroom. Their cribs were along the wall parallel to the door, side by side, with a little space between them but still close enough that they could reach their arms through the bars and touch each others' fingers if they wanted to. Steve and Nat had learned that the twins didn't like sharing a crib too much- they tolerated the close proximity, but in the end one would always end up being woken by the other's movements- but didn't like having their separate cribs on opposite walls, either; they liked having space while also being comfortably close. It was a rather mature concept of personal space that they displayed.

Closing the door behind him to make sure there were no escapees, Steve put both twins on the ground and grabbed their favorite bedtime story- _Hansel and Gretel_. James listened to Steve read it with rapt attention, but Sarah, while not crying, wouldn't stop sniffling and pointing quietly at the door. When it was time for them to go to sleep, he put them in their cribs.

James, thankfully, was one of those rare kids that was totally fine with going to sleep once he was put to bed. He barely ever protested and just waited to be tucked in before rolling over and drifting off. He was a troublemaker in general, hyperactive and hard to keep track of, and he was a pain in the neck to wash, but when it came to bedtime, he was every parent's dream- pun intended. Sarah usually had to be persuaded to lie down so she could be tucked in, and sometimes she would cry, but once she was laying down, she was out like a light- not because she was cooperating with bedtime, but because she was just one of those toddlers that can't lie somewhere comfy without passing out almost automatically.

As usual, James stayed where he was put, laying on his back, rubbing at his face tiredly and waiting for his blanket to be tucked around him. Smiling softly at the child, who was watching him with Natasha's eyes, Steve took his racecar blanket- a gift from Wanda- and gently tucked it around the boy. He then leaned over the railing, ignoring how it was forcing all air from his lungs, and kissed his son's forehead. James cooed before rolling onto his side, burying his fist in his stuffed lion, and closing his eyes.

Sarah, as could be predicted by her previous behavior that night, was not going to make things easy. Natasha had gone on missions at night before, but there had only been two occasions so far where she hadn't made it back for bedtime- so how Sarah would do was still kind of anyone's guess. Hopefully she was tired.

"Alright, Sare, lie down." He said gently, coming over to her crib. She was standing, clinging to the rail, and looking up at him pleadingly. "It's time for sleep." Her lip wobbled and she got teary-eyed.

"No! Mama!" She argued. Steve fought the urge to facepalm; she just missed Natasha. He could handle this.

Steve propped his arms on the rail beside her and he lowered himself slightly to be at her face level. She looked at him, confused. "Sarah, Mama isn't here right now. You'll see her… soon." He said calmly, stroking her chubby cheek. Her face was getting red and tears escaped her eyes.

"Mama _dere_!" Was her protest, pointing to the door. Steve wished Nat would waltz in at that moment, miraculously back early. That didn't happen. Sighing, he carefully pried her hands from the railing and manually laid her down on her back, pulling her giraffe blanket- also from Wanda- up to her chest.

"It's time to sleep, little one. Goodnight." He whispered even as she whimpered, snot running from her nose. All he could do was let her get it all out, cry herself to sleep. He leaned over and kissed her head before turning off the lamp, making sure the nightlight came on, and noiselessly closing the door behind him.

He'd expected Sarah to pass out pretty quickly, maybe after a minute or so of crying to herself, but when it hit the ten minute mark and she was now full-out sobbing, he realized it certainly wouldn't be that easy. Groaning, he got up from the couch and hiked back up the stairs.

"Mama _dere_!" Sarah screeched when he entered, making him have to fight the urge to cover his ears. She was standing up again, face beet red and coated in tears, snot and drool. Her voice was gravelly and hoarse by now, and she kept having to stop screaming to cough, drooling onto her onesie and the railing. How was James supposed to fall asleep with all of this noise? One look into the boy's crib was enough to tell him that the answer was that he _wasn't._ James was looking up at him, face twisted into the grumpiest expression he'd ever seen.

"Dada, _lou'_." The younger twin complained. His tone alone was saying _Please shut her up- I was so comfy, ready to fall asleep, and her screaming is preventing me from getting my much-needed sleep_. It was rare to see James awake after he was tucked in- even thunderstorms couldn't rouse him once he was in sleep's embrace. So clearly being kept up by such a loud, painful noise was irritating the toddler.

"I know, buddy." Steve replied exhaustedly, going over to Sarah. She latched onto his shirt with one little hand, screaming again. "Sarah, calm down, sweetheart." He tried to soothe her- she yelled and looked up at him with red eyes.

" _Mama_!"

Steve sighed and grabbed her under the armpits, lifting her into his arms and beginning to pace, bouncing her gently. She rested her head on his shoulder, still loudly crying, sounding tired and scared and everything in between. In that moment he couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed.

"Shhh, calm down." He murmured as he paced, rubbing her back with one hand. Her cries turned into hiccups and sniffles, but she seemed to be responding to his calm. His shirt was soaked by that point, but he didn't care. "You miss your mama, huh?" He asked quietly, and she whimpered and nodded against his shoulder. "It's alright… She's coming back soon." He comforted.

"Mama…" Sarah croaked.

 _Think, Steve… What would help here? What would Nat do?_ Suddenly, an idea came to him. Quietly, he began humming the tune to a Russian lullaby Natasha sang to the twins when they couldn't sleep- it knocked them out every time. He didn't know the words, and wouldn't even _try_ to imitate the sounds he'd picked up from listening to her sing it, but hopefully the tune would be enough.

He almost wanted to cry when he saw Sarah's eyes fluttering closed after a few minutes of humming the song on a loop- James was fast asleep, and it seemed she was soon joining him. He finished the verse he was on before carefully laying her back in her crib- she made a few small fussing noises before closing her eyes and falling back asleep. He internally celebrated the victory as he gently pulled her blanket over her and put her stuffed elephant beside her. With one last glance into the quiet room, he closed the door behind him and snuck downstairs, where he promptly passed out on the couch.

* * *

Steve sighed as he watched the three-year-olds trying to climb the walls - literally. They were failing so far, but with this level of hyperactivity, he was sure they'd eventually do it. The Terrible Twos had been bearable… but the Hyper Threes were something else entirely. He'd been trying to keep them in check for an hour, but eventually just surrendered to sitting on the couch with a reading Natasha and supervise to make sure the twins didn't destroy anything. "I wonder where they get _this_ from." He mused to Natasha as James gave up on the wall and started bouncing on the armchair.

"Not me." She replied distractedly.

He rolled his eyes and internally winced when Sarah fell onto her butt - _pleasedon'tcrypleasedon'tcry -_ then sighed in relief when she simply giggled and got back up. "So you're saying you were _never_ hyper as a child?" He challenged lightly, snagging James's arm as he ran by and swiftly adjusting his pants so they weren't sagging dangerously low before turning him loose again.

Natasha turned her focus to him, looking at him like he was absolutely crazy. "Sure, the Red Room let us run around wild." She replied sarcastically. "The kids got this from you… and the overly sugary sweets you let them eat." She responded casually before glancing at the children and returning her gaze to the book.

He crossed his arms. "Hey, _one_ piece of leftover birthday cake isn't a lot!" He replied, mock-offended. "James, no!" He quickly corrected the boy, who was reaching for the cord for one of the lamps. James giggled innocently and ran at Sarah. Steve swore these two would be the death of him. "Besides, it was _you_ who let them nap an extra hour! Now they'll be up till midnight!"

Sarah ran by, stopped, belched, laughed, and resumed her game of tag with her brother. Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes again - honestly, what a proper little lady they were raising.

"Now, now, no need to get on the blame game," Natasha responded with a playful smirk. She looked up and furrowed her eyebrows. "I'll never understand how kids are just so bouncy and unaffected by everything."

"Maybe it's this super-secret superpower that all kids have." Steve suggested with a laugh… then watched in horror as James _picked up the coffee table._ The coffee table that was _twice his size_ and at least fifty pounds heavier than he was. Everyone in the room, including Sarah, stopped what they were doing to gape at the sight of the toddler holding the table in the air as if it were a sheet of paper, looking at them as if he had no idea why they were making such faces. Steve shot a look at Natasha that could hardly convey the millions of thoughts zipping through his mind.

Natasha blinked a few times, looking pretty confused, before looking at James directly. "You do not throw things - put that table down now." She said forcefully.

James looked slightly abashed and dropped the table. Sarah zipped over to him, babbling excitedly in a way that apparently only the children could understand. While the two socialized, Steve openly stared at his son. What James had done… wasn't normal. "Nat, do you think he inherited…?" He trailed off, knowing the answer was rather obvious.

"I think we might need to take the twins in for a little check-up… And possibly get a builder in for stronger walls- they're still growing."

Steve nodded in agreement. He couldn't help but wonder if, if this is what he thought it was, Sarah had it as well. He hoped not - two toddlers with superhuman strength was a rather… scary thought.

* * *

Steve thought the weirdest things as they drove to the base the next day, having called Tony and ensuring that he could look the twins over. _Please don't break the car, please don't break the car_ , constantly ran through his head as he would often shoot glances back at the twins through the rearview mirror. He'd never thought that something like that would be his line of thought while driving two toddlers. So far nothing had gone wrong- except for Sarah refusing to let anyone put shoes on her; she still was only in her socks.

"Where?" James asked for the fiftieth time in an hour.

"We're visiting Uncle Tony, kiddo." Steve said as enthusiastically as he could. Tony would most likely need blood samples, and that process was _not_ something he was looking forward to.

Sarah, as if afraid she would be forgotten if she didn't speak as much as her brother, piped up too. "I' c'eam!"

"Maybe, if you're good," Natasha half-promised - he had caught her promising the kids something and then not giving it to them.

The twins clapped their hands eagerly and began happily babbling to each other as they were wont to do when they got bored with interacting with their parents.

"I'm seriously hoping this goes well," Steve commented to Natasha.

Natasha grasped his hand shortly, enough time to give it a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be fine, we- _you're_ probably just overreacting about it." She teased.

Steve shrugged, not willing to admit she was right but not wanting to argue, and just focused on driving.

By the time they arrived twenty minutes later, James was wriggling in his car seat, trying very hard to slither out of it, but without success. Steve unbuckled him and found the seat to be undamaged from the boy pushing against the straps, so he hoped that meant that maybe the boy _did_ have some control after all.

Steve and Nat were going to let the twins walk into the building, holding their hands, but the kids were especially eager to try and run off and explore the the parking lot - plus they were still so short that Steve had to bend over slightly to hold James's hand, which he wasn't sure was the position he wanted his teammates to see him in, all bent over sideways and such - so they both ended up carrying a twin in.

"Dada! Loo'!" James cried in excitement, staring at the vast room and the windowed ceiling, giving them a clear view of the vast expanse of clouds coating the sky.

"That's pretty cool, huh?" Steve asked with a fond smile, bouncing the toddler a little bit.

Sarah was busy trying to force herself out of Natasha's arms, pushing off of Nat's chest and almost diving to the floor, arms outstretched toward a little cleaner 'bot sweeping a few feet away. "Dow! Mama, dow'!" She cried. The toddler's sudden launch would have had anyone else scrambling to keep Sarah from hitting the floor, but Nat's ninja-like reflexes allowed her to easily maneuver her grip on the child so she could pull her back to her chest without batting an eye. It was quite comical, all of it, really. "Mama! Noo!" Even with Nat being Sarah's favorite parent, the girl could still get very angry at her mother, as she was now.

"No, Sare," Natasha said calmly as she continued to the elevator. "Stay with mama."

Steve thanked God that James was being uncharacteristically levelheaded and calm as they rode the elevator to the eighth floor. The walk down the hall to Tony's lab was uneventful, thankfully, but Sarah was soon trying to launch herself from Natasha's grip once more as she spotted several shiny gadgets. James was intimidated by the complex machinery spanning the walls, ceiling, and most surfaces in the room, and he whimpered slightly and clenched his little fist in his father's shirt.

The next two hours were, to put it in simple terms, hell. James screamed the entire time, even when Tony was only testing his reflexes, and he managed to put an impressive dent in the robotic arm that had just taken his blood. Sarah skipped the middle man and kept assaulting Tony himself, kicking him in the forehead when he tested her reflexes and biting his finger when he was examining her arm muscles.

By the time they got the twins home that afternoon, with promises of getting the results of the testing the next day, the children were out cold and slept all the way to midnight before they finally woke up and thus kept both parents awake until dawn.

* * *

Steve read the page carefully, solemnly, the results he had feared but had logically been expecting swimming through his mind, even when he put the paper down. The twins had inherited his super-strength as well as what seemed to be accelerated healing. However, they had very little access to their strength most of the time - what really got their powers up and running was a good dose of adrenaline. So when they felt fear, excitement, surprise… they'd become stronger than they would know how to control. He'd always hoped his children would inherit something amazing from him, something to prove that they were _his_ , to show their roots, but he had never wanted them getting _this_ from him. Because of him, they weren't normal. They would have to always be conscientious and careful. They would have to keep a big part of themselves hidden if they wanted to fit in with their peers.

Natasha had taken the results in stride, claiming it was pretty obvious what the conclusions would be. He'd nodded in agreement, but said nothing more. Guilt was eating at him.

"I actually feel better about them having this strength - now I won't be terrified that something bad will happen if they're alone for a few moments," Natasha started, talking to herself, mainly. "And, if we wanted to get the kids a babysitter, they can defend themselves if required. No more needing intensely-trained childcare providers. And the twins won't need our protection as much when they're older. We don't need to keep them out of trouble 24/7."

He sighed. "I know, but what if the strength is what _causes_ trouble for them? What if they end up hurting themselves or someone else?"

Natasha gave him a condescending look. "They're _less_ likely to get hurt- not more." She pointed out. "And they would be causing trouble anyway- they're my children, too, you know. I can't wait to teach them," she said with an evil and mischievous glint in her eye.

Her positivity did help him to feel better about this whole thing, and he chuckled. "And I can't wait to teach them the boring responsibility stuff." He teased.

"Who's going to listen to that crap?" She teased, kissing his cheek. "Now, if you've had enough of being a baby - the kids are actually asleep and it's time for us parents to have some fun."

That was logic he could hardly argue with.

* * *

Natasha looked at Steve skeptically; it wasn't that she didn't think they could pull this off, but it was just a bizarre request. She randomly checked her phone, ignoring the texts that she had received before turning her attention back to him. "Are you serious?" She questioned.

"Of course! It'll be fun!" He replied enthusiastically, nodding at her.

Taking a breath, she accepted the brochure he had - how did he manage to find these things? - and read through it. "A comic-con…"

"It's only a small one nearby," Steve pointed out before adding, "It's like Halloween."

Natasha ran one hand through her hair and let out a sigh - this was definitely the strangest request he'd asked of her… but compared to some of the things _she_ asked _him_ , she wasn't about to say no… but making him wait in anticipation was pretty fun. "Fine, but only for one of the days- not the whole weekend."

Steve grinned and pulled her into a long kiss.

That conversation was how Natasha found herself fully booted in her Black Widow attire with fake weapons - and a few hidden real ones, of course - with Steve dressed in his Cap uniform and their two children dressed as Hawkeye and Iron Man. In a way, she was proud of Sarah for _not_ wanting to be one of the female superheroes - Steve was a little pouty about it, but didn't complain.

When they were first asked if they could take a photo with somebody, they were _sure_ they had been compromised - but that seemed to be a general theme. Everybody seemed to take photos with everybody - if they were in costume, that was. Natasha found herself getting more into the photo-taking than Steve - who still wasn't very good with a camera - and had the twins photographed with nearly a hundred people. Their favorite was all of the Captain Jack Sparrow cosplays.

Steve seemed to enjoy the individuals offering out free hugs and insisted that next time he'd make a sign. The overall experience was enjoyable, however, as they didn't watch many films or TV, they didn't go to any panels, and they ended up buying _way_ too many things.

Sarah's favorite part was the three personalised drawings she got of herself - one as a monster, one really accurate portrait in her Hawkeye costume and one anime-style. James, on the other hand, convinced them into letting him get a temporary tattoo - which obviously meant Sarah got one, too. However, James insisted he'd never wash his arm again so the little Avengers symbol would stay on forever.

All in all, it was a great day out; not once were they properly recognized - they were just another group of really good cosplayers. There was a lot of freedom whilst being surrounded by hundreds of people! Natasha didn't realise how enjoyable it would be to be lost in a crowd - just one face of many.

They ended up having to carry the children back into the house, as they had fallen asleep pretty much the second they were back in the car.

* * *

James hummed happily to himself as he skipped into the kitchen - he loved feeling helpful. His aunt Wanda had asked him to run to the kitchen and grab her some spoons from the silverware drawer so they could do an egg and spoon race. He couldn't help but feel smug that he'd been asked to and not his stupid sister.

"Spoons… spoons…" He muttered under his breath as he explored the drawers, trying to remember which one held the silverware. He was too short to see into the top drawer, so he blindly reached in and groped around to see if he could find a spoon by touch. His hand closed around something metal and thin enough to be a spoon… except it was too flat to be a spoon, right? Curious as to what it could be, he maneuvered his arm out of the drawer, only for the object to bump against the side of it and slide in his grip. Sharp pain instantly flooded through his hand and he shrieked and yanked his arm out fully, dropping the item - a scary-looking knife - to the ground.

Shakily, he lifted his hand to examine the damage, tears welling up in his eyes at the sight of the line of red dashing over each of his fingers. Blood began to lazily flow down his hand and he panicked, letting out a scream and wiping the blood on his pants. His mom would kill him later, but he was too shaken to care. There was so much blood! He'd never seen that much before, and what if that meant he was dying? What if his fingers fell off? Heart beating even faster, he turned and bolted out the door, sprinting as fast as his little legs could carry him as he rushed back to Wanda's room.

On the way, he passed Uncle Bucky and skidded to a stop when the man called out to him. "Hey, kiddo, where you going in such a hurry?"

"Uncle Bucky! I-I cut my hand!" James replied frantically, sniffling and showing his uncle the wound. Uncle Bucky let out a low whistle before smiling reassuringly.

"It's alright, Jimmy - here, let's put some bandaids on that and it'll be all better." James sniffled again and nodded solemnly, cradling his hand to his chest and following the tall man back to the kitchen, where he got a first-aid kit and quickly began cleaning up the hand. "Well, it's pretty deep, but you were lucky - this should heal up in no time." Bucky commented as he wrapped a bandaid around the boy's ring finger.

James looked at him incredulously. "I almost cut my fingers off! What if they _do_ fall off?"

His uncle laughed and applied the last bandaid before sitting back and letting out a bemused breath. "Kiddo, you're fine. It's not like you've just lost an arm or something." Lost his arm? James couldn't imagine that ever happening to anyone! That wasn't possible!

"You can't lose your arm!" He argued, furrowing his brows and crossing his arms. He was _five_ , after all - he knew all about that stuff.

Uncle Bucky raised both eyebrows before reaching up with his right arm and popping his left one right _off_. James felt like there was no air as he stared openly, mouth hanging open. Then he screamed and ran away, face coated in tears, until he eventually ran into his father and vehemently insisted that Uncle Bucky was a robot.

* * *

"Careful, Jimmy - the cap on that gets pretty stuck on the bottle." Steve advised the younger twin as the boy tried prying the lid from the bottle of orange juice. Steve had to commend him for not applying all of the force he was capable of - which was _a lot_ \- especially since they'd been working on when it was okay for the twins to use their superior strength.

When the boy still couldn't get the lid off, Steve sent Sarah a questioning look - he was elbow-deep in pancake batter, so he couldn't help. Sarah rolled her eyes, a gesture of her mother's that she loved to mimic, and snatched the jug from her twin, easily popping the lid off. James crossed his arms, grumbling under his breath about loosening it for her.

"Dad, can we not do the dance this year?" Sarah asked as she poured the juice into a glass and set the glass onto the tray. Steve arched a brow as he flipped the pancake.

"Why not? Your mother thinks it's cute." He argued.

James groaned. "Yeah, but we're _ten_ now, Dad! We're too old for that baby stuff."

"You're never too old to make your mother smile." Steve retorted. James spluttered before grunting and conveniently getting distracted with his new task of buttering the finished pancakes.

Sarah sighed, tucking her fiery hair behind her ear, and stretched her arms. "I wish Mom didn't wake up so early- then we wouldn't have to get up _earlier_ to catch her before she does." She sent a withering look at the clock, which read six o'clock. Steve internally agreed, but said nothing aloud.

Ten minutes later, the tray was heavily laden with various breakfast foods and the kitchen was a huge mess with the aftermath. Steve rubbed his hands together proudly as they examined their work. "Now, who's gonna carry this upstairs?" He asked.

"I vote you!" The twins exclaimed simultaneously, pointing at their father. He shrugged and grabbed the tray.

"Alright, but you've just sealed your fate- since you're both not carrying it, your hands are free so you can do the dance." He smirked when they shared looks of horror and slumped slightly.

"How do we fall for that every year?" Sarah complained as they followed him up the stairs.

"I guess it's just automatic to not want to carry that huge thing." James replied.

They snuck down the hall and quietly pushed the door open, the sliver of light from the hallway falling over Natasha's sleeping form. "Nat, wake up." Steve urged with a smile as they approached the bed.

Natasha turned around and faked a huge yawn and looked at them, a small gasp escaping as she looked at them. "What's this?" She asked with a grin.

"Happy Mother's Day!" The trio declared, the twins beginning their little twirling dance that they'd invented together when they were five. The memories the sight always brought back never failed to make Steve smile, and he knew Nat felt the same. Their babies were growing up much too quickly, so to see the special little dance reminded them that the twins were still young, still kids.

"My babies!" Natasha declared, pulling them into a hug. "You're growing up too quickly," she decided when Sarah went to pull away and she pulled them onto the bed with her.

"Mo- _om_!" James protested, though there was a smile wiggling its way onto his face. Steve chuckled as he placed the tray on the bedside table- no matter how much they insisted that they weren't little kids anymore and that they were independent, the pair would always enjoy snuggles from their mother.

"We made you breakfast." Steve informed Natasha as she squeezed their children to her.

Natasha kissed each of the twins' cheeks four times. "Breakfast? You didn't have to!" She exclaimed, in a very happy mood today.

"Oh, but we did." Steve insisted, stooping over and pressing a kiss to her forehead - he would have kissed her properly, but half her face was covered by the twins' heads as she hugged them close. "It's our way of thanking you for being the best mother and wife anyone could ask for."

"You rock, Mom!" James added, crinkling his nose in a very Steve-like fashion when Natasha planted another kiss on his face.

"Yeah, and we love you a lot!" Sarah inputted, wrapping her arms around her mother. Steve's heart warmed at the sight.

"Oh, I know," Natasha commented confidently. "Oi - old man," she said to Steve, holding her arms open, "join the bundle."

He needed no further prompting and quickly immersed himself in his family.

* * *

It was the day Steve had been secretly dreading since the twins had told their parents of their intentions to join the Avengers. The day they became official members. He felt so conflicted; he was immensely proud that both of his children wanted to devote their lives to helping others with their super strength, yet at the same time he was terrified that one day their precious babies wouldn't be fast enough, or strong enough, to win their battles. What if the job took the twins away from them?

Still, he could never tell the pair that they couldn't do it- they were nineteen now, so they could make their own choices. He had no right to deny them that.

He and Nat had agreed to go with Sarah and James as they moved into the base so they could give them a quick tour and be able to spend just a little more time with them. On top of being an Avenger, Sarah was planning to become a part-time college student and eventually become an engineer. James already worked three part-time jobs to save up for his future plans- whatever those would be. He was still undecided. The fact that the twins wouldn't be spending every waking moment of their lives as heroes was comforting, at least- they could still be whatever else they wanted and not feel trapped in the Avengers life. However, with these extra engagements taking up a majority of their non-training and non-heroing time, Steve and Natasha would be seeing very little of their children for the next few years. It made his heart heavy just thinking about it.

He pulled up to the building he'd spent so much of his own time in and helped carry in the heavier bags and boxes while Natasha helped sort their clothes into their new closets and dressers. After that it was time for the tour; the twins had grown up visiting the base frequently, but there had been places, such as the firing range and other specialized training rooms, that they had never been allowed access to before they became Avengers.

"...And here's the obstacle course." He finished, gesturing to the large room full of various equipment and obstacles to overcome. James peeked in and made an excited sound.

"Dude! That looks _fun_!" Steve couldn't help but chuckle- he had a feeling James would be spending lots of time in this particular training room.

"I bet I could get through it quicker than you," Sarah challenged James.

James pulled an utterly offended face. "You wound me- I would never be as slow as _you_!"

Steve laughed again. "I don't know, Jimmy… She's pretty fast."

James gaped at him, hand over his heart. "Et tu, Brute?"

"Yeah, you, dumbass!" Sarah said.

"Stop- you can race later," Natasha interrupted. "Let's not ruin this goodbye with one grouchy child and one gloating child."

The younger twin had the grace to look bashful, as he usually did when even slightly scolded by his mother. Smart kid. "Alright, alright. But I'll totally beat you later." He assured Sarah.

Steve and Nat led the way back to the twins' rooms before they came to a stop in the hallway. "Well… that's the end of the tour. Did you have any questions?" Steve asked, wishing to procrastinate as long as possible.

"Nope," Sarah replied with a smile. She received an elbowing from Nat. "What? He already gave us a tour even though we've been here a thousand times."

"Sarah," Natasha said sternly before whispering something just out of Steve's hearing - he hated that she was able to do that so well!

Sarah held the same 'I've been scolded look' that James had earlier. "Well, it would be nice to know…" she stopped, looking around the room for a moment, "if… how… I got nothing."

Steve raised a brow but didn't question her on that. "Well, if you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call us." He stated. "We're only an hour away- half an hour in the quinjet."

James shrugged in his usual laid-back manner. "We know, Dad. Don't worry- we'll always ask you for help if we really need it." Steve sometimes wondered how James knew him so well- as it was, that statement alone helped to settle the relentless worry in his gut.

"Yeah, besides, it's your birthday next month - so we'll see you then!" Sarah said with a positive attitude.

He smiled. "And don't forget that we'll come by on weekends to train with you." He added; he and Nat may have been getting 'old', as the twins loved to say, but that was no reason to slack on their training. Villains didn't exactly honor one's wishes to completely retire from the heroing business.

Sarah pulled a face. "Every weekend… but remember, we don't want special treatment… and no embarrassing us, either."

Natasha threw her arms around her daughter. "MY BABY GIRL IS GROWING UP SO QUICKLY!" There was an evil glint in her eye.

Steve hid his smirk and threw his arm around James' shoulders. "And you, Jimmy- I expect you to tell me if you start dating one of the fine ladies here." He teased- besides James and Sarah, there was Tony's son, Thor's daughter, Maria's niece and a few other recruits with no relations to original Avengers. Not _too_ many girls for James to get involved with, but that would always be a topic Steve would tease his son about.

"Dad, I told you to not call me Jimmy - it's _James_." Steve ignored his protests with a chuckle and looked mock-sternly at Sarah.

"And you, young lady- no dating until you're thirty." He said, putting his hand on his hips for emphasis. She rolled her eyes at him.

"You might want to loosen up on that rule if you want grandchildren in your lifetime, you know."

Natasha crossed her arms. "You are too young to be talking like that, young lady - and you too, James; no grandbabies for at least five years from either of you- otherwise there will be hell to pay." She warned.

"Yes, Ma'am." The twins replied at the same time, James doing a mock salute.

"I'm sure you'll have nothing to worry about on James's end." Sarah commented, shooting her brother an impish look. He stuck his tongue out at her.

"Yeah, 'cuz I'm too awesome for the ladies to handle!"

Steve patted his shoulder patronizingly. "Sure you are, son." They all broke into laughter. In that moment, Steve wished more than anything that nothing would change- that their family dynamic wouldn't be different at all, that the twins weren't actually leaving home. He wished they weren't adults. He wished they could start it all over again, to the time when their babies were just that- babies. Where had the time gone?

He found it extremely sadistic that it was expected of parents to care for and bond with their children for eighteen- or in this case, nineteen- years, plenty of time to build up a strong, loving bond with them… only for the children to move out and become independent so suddenly.

"I suppose we should get going and leave you two alone to get settled," Natasha said, looking fondly at the two nineteen-year-olds.

The twins exchanged excited looks while Steve's stomach twisted a little. It was time to let them go, so to speak. He hated that phrase- it sounded much too final. He didn't know what to say.

Sarah moved forward and hugged Steve tightly. "Bye, Dad! I'll miss you!"

Natasha caught James in a hug before he even stepped forward, whispering things into his ear as they embraced.

Steve held his daughter close, remembering the days when hugging her involved much more bending over to accommodate how short she was. "I love you, sweetheart. I know you'll make us proud."

With a big smile, Sarah stepped back. "Thanks, Dad. I love you, too." Then turned around and hugged her mother.

James stepped forward and, after a second, hugged Steve too. "Thanks for not making too much of a big deal about this."

Steve chuckled and squeezed his son tightly. "Believe me, if your mother let me say half the things that are running through my mind right now, you wouldn't be thanking me."

A laugh ignited from James as he pulled back. "I know - I already thanked her. And don't worry about Sarah- I'll keep an eye on her. I already promised Mom."

"And I promised to take care of you," Sarah inputted teasingly.

Steve didn't have much chance to do anything else; Natasha took his hand and led him out. He knew he couldn't stay forever, but he'd procrastinated as much as he could for now. At least it was Thursday and they would be back in two days.

Still, Steve couldn't help but think that they would be the longest two days of his life. As he held the door for her and they exited into the parking lot, it struck him that they were _actually_ leaving their kids at the base. That their kids _lived_ there now. Sarah and James were following in their footsteps. "How do you stay so calm?" He asked his wife desperately as she casually strolled beside him.

"I was trained for years as an assassin and spy, Steve. I know what I'm doing," Natasha replied before adding. "So we'll park in the second carpark that the kids don't know about and stay in one of Tony's spare bedrooms that he doesn't think we know about - that way we can watch the kids to make sure they're alright."

Steve laughed, the dread inside of him slowly abating. He stopped mid-step, grabbed her arm, and pulled her into a kiss. "I _adore_ you, Natasha Romanoff." He said, looking down into her eyes- the same eyes their son had inherited and that he never ceased to love.

"I know," Natasha replied with a smirk. "Now stop daddling - I need to see my babies!" She said, pulling away from him and getting into the car.

Without missing a beat, he followed. Yes, the children weren't children anymore. They were ready to break free and take flight on their own. Steve knew this, and he trusted the two of them to make good decisions.

Still, that didn't mean they would ever stop being their parents. Their overprotective, annoying, embarrassing parents that would always be there for them- even when they didn't know it.

 **We hope you enjoyed! This took forever for us to get put together, because of all the work we put into it! Thank you so much for reading and everyone have a fantabulous day!**

 **-Violet and Vanilla**


	20. Chapter 20

**Alright, here's our next chapter from the prompts of WriterGirl1198 and shadowhuntingdauntlessdemigod to continue the scene of Steve realizing he loves Nat, and not Sharon. Thank you so much for your prompts, guys!**

 **Actually, we've run out of prompts to write (Guest and Bree Colbern, yours have been written and just need to be proofread before posting) and would appreciate any you guys would like to give us! Feel free to drop us a prompt or two!**

As the dial tone sounded in his ear, Steve's heart sped up exponentially. He was currently calling Natasha to tell her he loved her. It was as simple as that, and yet for some reason it seemed much too difficult as he tried to gather all of his confidence. He had absolutely no idea how she would react to something like this. Would she freak out? Shut him down?

He realized he was walking in a random direction through the halls as his main focus was on the phone as it continued to ring, so he ducked into an alcove nearby and sat on a bench, his leg beginning to bounce anxiously almost of its own accord.

Finally, after what felt like two eternities, the line was picked up.

"Romanoff," came her short greeting; it was almost huffed out, not out of annoyance, but as if she had just taken a deep breath.

For a minute he was afraid his words would get caught in his throat and she'd hang up before he could speak, but instead, the opposite happened: he word-vomited. "Hey, Nat, I was wondering if I could talk to you? I mean, if you're not busy- it sounded like you were doing something, so if I'm interrupting anything, just tell me." He clamped his jaw shut then before he could make an even bigger fool of himself.

"Spit it out, Rogers," Natasha semi-ordered.

Right. How to go about this? "Well, I've been thinking… about Sharon." _Shit_! That was not what he'd meant to imply. "I mean, about what she means to me and what _you_ mean to me." Better, but still not quite what he was wanting to say.

There was a huff and a crash. "Steve, get to the point or I'll have to hang up and talk to you face to face later."

"I love you." And just like that, he'd said it before his brain could even keep up with his mouth. He'd hoped that a weight would leave his shoulders after making this confession, but it seemed to increase instead as he realized how bluntly he'd said that. Still, he didn't say anything to amend his statement- he waited with bated breath for her reply.

* * *

Natasha squared her shoulders against her much larger opponent, her breathing hitched and her pulse beating in her head - that was mainly the result from being thrown head first off the ledge. She felt a buzz in her trousers - she hoped it was a buzz from her phone and that she wasn't imagining it, otherwise that could be serious.

The other guy moved first and actually got a blow into her side, shifting her a few inches, however, it did give her a great advantage to hold on, trap his head between her knees and snap his neck. She took a breath as she pulled out her phone and answered it as he landed on the ground. "Romanoff."

Steve spoke nervously, which was kind of odd coming from the super-soldier. "Hey, Nat, I was wondering if I could talk to you? I mean, if you're not busy- it sounded like you were doing something, so if I'm interrupting anything, just tell me."

She really did not have time for his rambles; why couldn't he just tell her why he called? "Spit it out, Rogers."

"Well, I been thinking… about Sharon." Steve started, making her roll her eyes. As she did this, she noticed movement and quickly started moving herself. "I mean, about what she means to me and what _you_ mean to me."

At the end of his sentence, she pounced, holding her phone down, kicking his gun out of the way before power-kicking the assailant straight into some crates - that wouldn't last long. "Steve, get to the point or I'll have to hang up and talk to you face to face later."

"I love you," Steve confessed.

Natasha paused, waiting for him to add 'as a friend' or some other over-dramatic thing to go with it. But just 'I love you'? What the hell was she was going to do with that? As he was saying just that, she presumed he meant romantically, but seriously, calling her up and telling her over the phone so she couldn't micro-analyse every facial expression he had? How cruel - now she had to come up with a response from the goons she was attacking. What does one say to that? Did she love him? Pulling out her knife and throwing it aimlessly at the wall gave her an extra few seconds to respond. "Thank you. We'll talk later." Then she hung up and continued what she was doing.

* * *

Steve stared at his phone for a few seconds after she hung up. Her reply had been very curt, which he found to be unsettling. There was no emotion in her voice that he could pick up on. Had he made a mistake? She hadn't seemed even affected by his words. Did that mean she didn't reciprocate his feelings even slightly? Worry started building in his gut as thousands of possibilities ran through his mind; what would happen when they talked later? Would she tell him to stay the hell away from her?

Sighing, he stood and slipped his phone into his pocket. While this whole ordeal with Natasha definitely felt all-encompassing, he _did_ have other things he needed to do.

* * *

Natasha iced her neck on the journey back to the base - why did men always think that she was a rag doll? Sure, she usually broke their necks, but that didn't give them the right to try and break hers! She was only mildly annoyed over the matter and her mind was soon occupied by Steve's confession. Why did he have to say such complicated things? Was it because he was now an official fugitive from the law? Did he have these feelings before but decided that now he wasn't better than her? What had brought his out?

But the thing plaguing her thoughts the most was her own feelings. She wasn't sure she even knew what they were - she kept them locked up so deep that accessing them was difficult and she had a bad feeling that she'd need to find the key to have a proper conversation with Steve.

She strutted confidently into the kitchen and found Steve sitting at the table. "I'm free to talk now - go." She said, grabbing a nutrition bar and sitting opposite him.

He blinked owlishly at her, taking a moment to swallow the bite of cereal he'd just stuffed into his mouth. "Oh, uh… I love you." He repeated his words from earlier, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.

"Yes, I heard that part," Natasha replied - she didn't need to him repeat it. In fact, it made things more complicated; she would have been happy for him to take it back, but now that wasn't going to happen. "What brought this on?"

Steve was thoughtful for a minute before answering carefully, "Well, I really got to thinking about what Sharon meant to me compared to everything that's happened between you and I and I realized… I don't love her. She was like a fling. But you…" He trailed off, breaking eye contact and taking another bite of his food.

Great, so she was the second option. Wait… since when did Steve use words like _fling_? She made a mental note to make sure he wasn't a robot or brainwashed later. Natasha looked at him directly. "But me, what? We've been teammates, partners and friends for years - you specifically said you wanted me as a _friend_ when I asked you years ago. What are you saying now?"

"I'm saying… that my feelings for you have changed after all these years together." He admitted.

Natasha decided to clear her mind; there was no point overthinking anything. "Steve, who do you want me to be?"

Steve looked up at her and seemed to contemplate for a moment. "I want you to love me back." Was his reply, his cheeks coloring just a tad. "If you don't feel that way, I understand."

"That's the stupidest thing you've ever said - besides 'how about a friend'," Natasha responded automatically. "You are definitely in the wrong business-" she paused for a moment. Steve really was an idiot; did she have to lay everything in front of him? He was literally the most oblivious individual she'd ever met - how had he not walked into a car yet? As fun as it would be to tease and play with his emotions, she decided not to. "I don't use words like 'love'," she said and then added, "it's for children."

He deflated a little but nodded. "I see. That's alright- I wouldn't ask you to change your feelings."

"Although, out of all the people I would be willing to enter a relationship with, you're definitely on the list," Natasha informed him, hoping he'd understand, because if not, she might just walk off and call it a day. "In fact, pretty sure you _are_ the list."

His brows raised slightly. "Really, now? So… that's not a flat-out rejection, then, right?" He asked hopefully. "Because at this point, you're the only person on my list, too." He added with a smile.

Natasha wasn't a hundred percent sure if he understood or not, but just went with it. "Nothing cheesy, and if you say the word 'courting', I will shave every single hair off your body." She stated, setting the rules before answering his question. "But yes, that was the opposite to a rejection."

Steve's expression brightened immediately. "I think I can handle your rule- as long as you don't refer to it as simply 'fucking'." He gave her a pointed look. "Fury is still trying to get the president to forgive you for that."

She shrugged off the last remark; she didn't care then, and still doesn't now. "Fine, it'll be known as shagging from now on - that's a British term for it."

He rolled his eyes. "Sure, because if you say it in 'British-Speak' it's a thousand times classier." He teased.

Natasha stood up. "Great, so that's settled. I'm going to shower- I hate the feeling of dried blood." She said, tossing her wrapper into the bin and walking straight out of the room.

 **Did you all LOVE it? I'm sure you did :D Lol, thank you all for reading and don't forget to leave us a review and/or prompt!**

 **Have a fantabulous evening!**

 **-Violet**


	21. Chapter 21

**Sorry for such a long wait! Life's been SUPER busy!**

 **Thanks to everyone for their continued support and input! We're working on all of the ones we've received!**

 **This prompt comes from Bree Colbern, where Nat is sad, Steve isn't sure what to do, and so he kisses her. We kind of manipulated the prompt an itty bit in that there's a deeper plot to it, but hopefully you'll like it!**

Natasha was stunned to silence at the words she heard over the phone; for the first time in a long time she just couldn't comprehend what was going on. She somehow managed to end the call before letting her arm drop down and the phone fall to the ground. This wasn't possible. She felt herself take a shaky breath, but just couldn't work out why she was struggling to breathe.

 _Breathe, Natasha, breathe_. She mentally repeated to herself before slowly easing down onto the couch. Her elbows braced against her knees as she hunched forward and found her eyes fogging up with tears. It wasn't long before the tears overflowed - but no matter what, she couldn't make them stop; she was still trying to manage her own breathing.

It had to be a lie. He was dead, she _knew_ he was dead… but now… now she wasn't so sure.

Suddenly a strong hand was on her shoulder and the couch dipped beside her as someone took a seat. "What's wrong, Nat?" Steve asked, worry coating his voice.

Natasha opened her mouth to speak, to answer, but nothing came out. Instead she just shook her head and closed her eyes, hunching forward even more. She had to calm down.

The hand squeezed her shoulder gently. "Did someone die?" Was his next question, voice softer.

She shook her head. "No… he's alive," her voice broke on the last word and she mentally cursed herself for being so weak, but she didn't have the strength right now to pull herself together - maybe she just shouldn't talk for a few minutes.

Steve was quiet for a few minutes, clearly unsure how to deal with such vague information. "I don't know who it could be that's got you reacting like this, but I assume it's someone who did something to you. Is that it?"

Natasha let out a hoarse laugh; it was almost ridiculous that that was what he first thought of. If somebody she wanted to be dead wasn't, she would just rectify that. "No," she answered, her voice sounding more steady, thankfully. However, her cheeks were getting wetter by the second, but at least she was able to think a bit more clearly - clear enough to wonder if she should tell Steve. He would tell the Avengers and she wasn't sure if some of them would be happy with this information. "Nothing like that," she said vaguely.

She could almost hear the way he scrunched up his face in confusion. "Well, what is it? You can talk to me, you know. I won't tell anyone." He said earnestly, rubbing her shoulder a little in what was probably a comforting gesture.

Natasha wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. "I'm fine, Steve, just… received some surprising intel. I'm fine," she decided. She looked at him, still breathing deeper than normal and she could almost feel that her eyes were red and puffy - she was an ugly cryer, which is another reason why she refuses to cry. "Thanks, though."

Steve looked hesitant to let it go, but slowly removed his hand from her shoulder. "I hate seeing you so torn up, you know." He said. "Is there anything I can do to cheer you up, at least?"

"No, I'm good. There's nothing you can do," Natasha responded as calmly as she could - she tended to get really angry when anybody saw her cry; she actually shot Clint in the foot before for commenting on it.

Determination settled on his face and suddenly he was kissing her, holding her close and showering affection on her through the simple gesture. After they pulled apart, he smoothed her hair from her face fondly and asked with a small smile, "Feel better now?"

Natasha was stunned - not as stunned at finding out her husband from a decade ago was actually alive, but definitely stunned. "Now's not the time to make out… but thanks," she said before standing up and quickly leaving the room. He was a pretty good kisser; definitely better than when _she_ surprised _him_ with a kiss.

* * *

Natasha was finally alone after hearing the news that her husband, whom she thought had died, was actually alive. She closed her eyes and allowed the scolding hot water to cascade around her. The whole situation was bizarre, confusing, enraging, eye-opening, and offered a lot of relief.

Once upon a time, she _loved_ Alexi and there was no doubt in her mind that he loved her too. They had chosen to get married after falling in love; it was nothing to do with the KGB, even though both of them were intertwined in the organisation. To her, it was the light at the end of a very long, narrow and gloomy tunnel. However, only a few years into their marriage, she was informed that he had died in a laboratory experiment - being young and naive, she believed them and didn't do much digging. Within a year of his death, she met Clint and became a traitor.

She doesn't regret anything in her life. Natasha knows that what she did as a child, what she was forced to do, wasn't her - they weren't her choices - and learned to differentiate between what _her_ choices were and what were others'. Alexi was probably one of Natasha's first real choices of her life. And now finding out that the KGB took him away from her was enraging her beyond anything she had felt before for them. This was one thing she would never be able to forgive them for.

But that didn't make life right now easier; that wouldn't change what happened and that wouldn't assist her in what to do now. Alexi was currently in the custody of S.H.I.E.L.D - he was willingly there to find her and rekindle what they once had. Of course, there was a huge part of Natasha that wanted to run straight into his arms, but then there was the other part of Natasha. The part that knew there was a high chance that Alexi was a KGB spy - he could have been sent to assassinate her, since he had the highest chance of getting to her more than anybody else she knew. And on top of that, she wasn't sure if she wanted to rekindle things with him - sure, she still loved him, she always would, but things were different now.

Things were a lot different. She was Natasha Romanoff, not Natalia Romanova. The day she changed her name was the day she stopped being the woman that Alexi knew. She had _friends_ , people who she could count on, depend on, rely on. He wasn't the only man in her life and even though she hadn't married again, that didn't mean she wasn't loyal to anybody.

Of course, she wasn't particularly dating anybody, or in any form of official relationship, but if that kiss with Steve earlier meant anything to him - like it did her - then that was a step towards something. She wasn't sure she wanted to take that step back and risk it with Alexi.

But how was one to know what is best? She knew how it felt to be with Alexi, she knew their plans and how they worked together. She knows and misses the love they shared. Steve is a different story - they had only ever been friends and for a very long time, she didn't think anything would happen between them - he was always too good for her… also, he told her he only wanted a friend.

Sometimes, Natasha thinks it was easier when she was in the Red Room, her every move controlled by somebody else. Because now, she had to decide for herself.

Taking a breath, she turned off the shower and stepped onto the soft rug. The towel she wrapped around her body was also soft - maybe too soft. Her life had changed so much over the last decade that she wasn't even sure if she and Alexi would even be able to have a conversation. But, he was her husband, or _was_ her husband, and deserved at least a face to face. It didn't mean that she was just going to jump straight back into the marriage with him, but she wasn't just going to throw away what they had because a decade had passed.

Additionally, it didn't change anything between her and Steve - they weren't officially an item and he was a very understanding individual. Only time would tell what will happen in the future.

* * *

Steve knocked on her door at about four the next day, having decided the day prior to give Natasha some time alone to really think over whatever it was that was that had her so distraught. He just hoped that she'd gotten some peace between then and now. "Nat?" He called when she didn't immediately answer the door like she tended to do.

"Come on in," Natasha called from within.

He hesitantly pushed the door open and went inside, quietly closing it behind him. She was seated on her bed, leaning on the headboard with an old photo album, and he stood there, unsure. "You okay?" Because she seemed… off.

She nodded gently. "Yeah... yeah, I am," Natasha confirmed, almost as if she was telling herself too before looking at him. "You can sit down, if you wanted to."

Steve carefully took a seat on the edge of the mattress, giving her some space but still close enough to reach out and touch her… if such a gesture would even be accepted. She wasn't as crushingly depressed today, it seemed, but she was definitely solemn. "You feeling better today?"

"Well, I'm over my life coming crashing in on me, but… it's harder to move on when they're not dead… I guess it's very bittersweet," Natasha answered, closing the album and putting it down beside her. "You know?" She added, looking at him for a response.

His head was still reeling over the fact that her life had crashed in on her, and it had involved someone who was apparently still living. "Wait, what is this about, Nat?" He asked, catching himself after 'wait' and switching his tone to something gentler, more encouraging.

Natasha's eyes practically bore into his for a moment or two. "I…" She paused for a moment, tilting her head to one side. "I thought I told you yesterday - perhaps not." Another pause as she straightened up slightly. "My husband, who I thought had died over ten years ago, turned out to be… not as dead as I thought. He went to S.H.I.E.L.D to find me and… found me." Her face was a mixture of confusion and something else he couldn't decipher.

Steve stared at her, stunned. "Your husband… and he, what? Faked his death? Hid? For ten years? What happened?" He wasn't exactly sure what he was specifically inquiring about - all of it, he supposed. It was a huge bundle of confusion.

Natasha started shaking her head halfway through his third question. "No, no… the KGB killed him… and they killed me. We didn't know the other was alive." She answered letting out a big sigh. "Things would have been _very_ different had they not made me believe he was dead."

He didn't really want to think about Natasha with another man - damn, wait. "Wait, so are you two… resuming where you left off, then?" He asked, trepidation twisting his lungs. He wordlessly promised that if the answer was yes, he wouldn't give her or her… husband… any grief over it. They had something older and deeper than he had a right to intrude on.

"No. Legally our marriage ended years ago, and…" She paused to let out a sigh. "We both lead different lives now, and we decided it would be best to just continuing our lives as friends. We both have different lives… different ambitions."

While he was internally relieved that they wouldn't be a couple again, Steve still felt a bit of solemn understanding. "He's still with the KGB." It wasn't really a question. He just sort of… _knew_.

Natasha looked down and shrugged. "Apparently not. I honestly don't know what to believe right now, but I am inclined to believe him. It's all… complicated. I don't want to talk about it any more."

He nodded slowly. "Alright. What were you looking at earlier?" He asked, gesturing to the picture album she'd been looking through.

Natasha lifted the photo album with care, hesitated and then handed it over to him. "He kept our album, with our wedding and… other pictures."

Just as gingerly, Steve took the album and gently set in on his lap, looking to her just in case she wanted to change her mind on him looking inside. She didn't reach to take it back, just shrugged, so he turned back to the book and opened it. Several pictures were attached to the first page, all of a wedding theme. It appeared it was a small, private ceremony, with minimal attendance and little decoration. Still, the clear adoration in the gorgeous bride's eyes as she looked up at her new husband was more than enough to compensate for the lack of 'wedding' environment. Just seeing such a look on Natasha's face, almost identical to how she looked now - did she even age? - was almost too much for Steve to comprehend. Natasha wasn't naturally so… adoring. "Wow - you were beautiful. In your dress, I mean. You're just as lovely now." He quickly corrected.

"Thanks," Natasha replied shortly, but then continued. "It was a long time ago." She reached forward and closed the album, but left it on Steve's lap. "I never really looked back before; when I left the KGB, I left _everything_ \- not that I had the chance to go back and pack, but… I am glad. I'm not specifically upset about it now, still pissed though. I'm happy now, with you, the team, what we do. I'm really, truly happy in pretty much every aspect of my life - I wasn't back then. I was happy with him, but not my job… or anything else, really."

Steve nodded somberly. "I'm sorry things were like that for you," he said genuinely. "You deserve the best in all aspects of your life." He was curious about what other photos would be on the other pages of the album, but reverently handed it back to her. He didn't want to seem nosy, and she had to have closed the cover for a reason.

"It's all good now. No point dwelling on the past when there's company," Natasha responded, accepting the album back and pulling it in her top drawer before returning her attention to him. "How are you?"

At the sudden change of topic, Steve shrugged. "I'm fine. Not much to say about it… I am sad that you're going through this, though. It can't be easy." He wished he could somehow make this better for her - show her just how much he cared for her, and how he would have her back. She shouldn't have to carry all of this burden alone, go through the pain of the loss of her husband and come out of it still without anyone to love.

"I've been through a lot worse; I can get through this," Natasha informed him before lightly and affectionately punching his arm. "At least this time I have you to keep me company."

"You sure do," he agreed as he offered her a supporting smile and rested a hand on her shoulder. It was only now that he realized they had somehow gotten closer during the conversation than when he'd first sat down with her. He wondered if that was mostly him moving or if she had decided to close the gap between them. She was so close he could smell her shampoo, along with her usual scent of lavender and gunpowder. It was an odd combination, to be sure, but it was _Natasha_ , and it worked. He decided he was overthinking this closeness and followed what his gut was telling him to do - he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her lips.

She didn't do too much to reciprocate, but she didn't pull away, and for a moment he just memorized the feel of her lips on his, intoxicated by her closeness. Then he pulled back and gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry… Maybe that wasn't the best ti-" She cut him off with a small mischievous smile before pulling him into another, deeper kiss.

 **And there ya have it!**

 **Please drop us a prompt and leave a review!**

 **Have a good night, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet**


	22. Chapter 22

**Sorry I suck so much with consistently updating! The story's still going strong, I've just had very little time to update and when I do, I often forget :P**

 **Anyway, here's Guest's request of drunk Nat!**

Steve was woken at four in the morning by headlights shining through his curtains and thus onto his face. Had this been anyplace else, he probably would have been used to such a disturbance and slept through it, except that the base was isolated, and everyone who knew of its existence and had any reason to come here was sound asleep either at their own homes or in the base itself. Not too many cars ever drove by at night. Mumbling to himself in annoyance, Steve slowly got out of bed and pushed the curtain aside just in time to see a woman stumble out of the backseat, closely followed by a male figure who steadied her with a grip on her upper arm. Steve couldn't make out who they were, but didn't particularly care - probably just some irresponsible agents coming back after a night of thrills. Rolling his eyes, he climbed back into bed and tried to fall back asleep.

He was almost successful, too, until the sound of someone slamming into a… car?... startled him back to full alertness. He jumped off the mattress and once again peered out the window, scanning the lot outside for any signs of movement. It wasn't hard to spot the source of the noise - the same woman from before was now right below his window, drunkenly fumbling with a key ring while constantly slapping her hand against the roof of a small car each time she dizzily began tipping over backwards. There was no help in sight this time, and the parking lot was incredibly dark - he wasn't sure what would happen if he didn't step in. Without giving it another thought, he hurried out into the hall and to the nearest exit to the parking lot, quickly typing in the code to the door and pulling it open, trying not to shiver against the cold early morning air.

"Miss? Hello, Miss?" He called as he jogged over to where he'd seen her, and as he was finally close enough to make out facial features, he almost gasped in utter shock. "Nat?" Her red hair was a tangled mess and her movements were slow and uncoordinated. Was she drunk? Was that even physically possible for her? He picked up his pace the last few steps and steadied her when she seemed about to tip over again. "Nat, what're you doing out here?" He asked with concern.

"Steveeee!" Natasha announced loudly, her left hand hitting him on the chest quite roughly before resting there for balance. "Shhhhhh! I need drive home, I might... drunk. Stupid key!" She said, hitting the buttons on the key repeatedly, even though the car was already unlocked.

He raised a brow at her. "You might drunk, huh?" He asked somewhat teasingly, although she was clearly too out of it to register that. "Nat, you _are_ home. Come on, let's _not_ put you behind the wheel." He gently began leading her back to the building.

Natasha looked around. "Oh…" she said, before throwing her key over her shoulder onto the ground. "Don't need car, then! We going back to your room," she teased, leaning fully against him. "I thought you never ask! Wussie!"

Normally he'd at least flush at the mention of something like that, but Natasha seemed pretty much on her own plane of existence right now, and nothing she said could really be taken seriously. "Sure, you can crash in my room if you'd like. I'm fine with taking the couch." He said calmly, stooping over to grab up her abandoned keys before continuing to shepherd her into the base.

"WAIT!" Natasha cried, forcing them both to stop with all of her strength. "No! It's gone! Where?"

Steve groaned and decided to go along with her ramblings. "What's gone, Nat?" He asked.

"My… my phone!" Natasha informed him, patting herself down before relaxing and laughing. "It's in my bra! I'm so drink. Bad Natalia! Will beat myself tomorrow! Bad Natalia!"

Okay, that troubled him slightly. He scowled at her. "No, Natalia will be doing no such thing." He asserted. "Why would you beat yourself?"

Natasha shook her head. "No, they will. They will. Bad Natalia. Unprofessional! Stupid little girl!" She continued to shake her head.

Was she talking about the Red Room? He didn't know too much about her time spent in their clutches, but he knew it had been anything but a good, child-friendly environment. "No, Natalia isn't stupid, and she's not a little girl anymore. Natalia is Natasha now, and Natasha is allowed to drink if she wants to." He felt slightly ridiculous talking only in the third person, but he was hoping that mimicking her speech would help her understand.

"Steve... silly," Natasha scoffed before bursting out in laughter. "Wanna do sex with me?"

He sighed and typed in the entrance code, carefully guiding her inside. "No thanks - my schedule's full." He replied as pleasantly as he could. He tried to ignore how strongly she smelled like a wet dog and cigarettes - where the hell had she spent the night? - and decided that it would be better to keep her close by so if she decided to start wandering later in the morning, he would know. He led the way toward his quarters. "So what were you up to earlier?"

Natasha waved her hand dismissively before resting it on his chest again, this time not as violently. "What were _you_ up to? Who was it? Was it Bucky?"

He furrowed his brows in a mixture of confusion and indignation. "Oh… kay… Sure, yeah. Now, again, what were _you_ doing? You seem pretty plastered." He took her by the arm and gently moved her to lean against the wall while he typed in his security code - he couldn't see past her head otherwise, as she was constantly leaning from side to side and blocking his view.

"Just drinking away my sorrows," Natasha replied with probably the coherent sentence she'd uttered this entire conversation, with closed eyes before falling silent, her head against the wall.

That made him pause for a moment before he finished typing in the code and pushed the door open, helping her stand fully again. "Sorrows? What's eating at you?" He asked with concern.

"Hmm… life, death, the past, cheese," she answered thoughtfully, stumbling through the door into his room and literally falling onto his bed.

"Ah, yes, I drink away my sorrows over cheese every Tuesday," he teased lightly, although she was, of course, too plastered to really appreciate his humor. He closed the door behind himself and sighed at the sight of her sprawled on his bed. "Need some help there?" He asked as she weakly pulled on the blanket she was laying on.

Natasha grunted in reply, pulling the blanket and rolling off the bed with it. In her defense, she managed to cover herself with it. "The bed moved. Bad bed." She muttered, although made no attempt to move.

He was reluctant to try putting her back on the bed - she was a trained assassin, after all, and he was sure she still had ninja-like reflexes at her disposal should any threat come her way. Plus, being picked up and put on a bed wasn't exactly a soothing gesture to someone who was in a strange room and wasn't in some sort of relationship in which such a gesture could be normal. Still, though, the ground was hard and cold and he couldn't in good conscience leave her there. Sighing again, he knelt down and began trying to shimmy her into his arms - it was hard to determine was was blanket and what was human in the giant ball of fabric. "Let me help you up, there…" he muttered as he slowly lifted her and placed her on the mattress.

Thankfully his actions went without resulting injury, as he soon discovered that Natasha was out cold. His lips turned up in an exasperated but nonetheless fond smile and he pulled off her shoes, placing them neatly by the bed, before taking a spare blanket and camping out in the recliner.

* * *

Steve woke up at about noon the next day, something he rarely did - then again, he'd had a rather eventful night. He peered over at the bed to find Natasha still sound asleep, wrapped up in a blanket burrito. With a grunt, he got up from the recliner with as little noise as possible - however, that was apparently still too loud.

Natasha sat up and looked around briefly. "No naked guy… no pool of blood. Good night," she muttered before lying back down and pulling the blankets over her head.

Steve didn't know whether to laugh or stare at her in horror.

 **This one was so much fun :) Hope you enjoyed!**


	23. Chapter 23

**I'm sorry, I'm REAAALLY bad at this 'updating on time' thing- just ask any readers of my other FOUR ongoing stories, which I haven't updated in months. Thankfully on this one I have Vanilla to get my butt in gear when I go too long without posting.**

 **Thanks to Gundamseeddestiny for the lovely prompt! This chapter is all good fun and was lots of fun to write, so please don't take it too seriously and enjoy! :D**

Steve grunted in annoyance as the enemy's lackeys refused to change tactics from just shooting at him multiple times. He had awesome shield-throwing skills, and he couldn't put them to good use until he had an opening to actually throw his shield- he wasn't generally hurt by bullets, true, but they did hurt like hell and tended to slow him down just a bit. He just hoped things were going better on Nat's end- and, judging by the sudden cries of pain and the lessening of the bullets raining on him, they were.

"What the fu-"

"Where'd she-"

"Holy-"

"Language!" Steve scolded the goons sarcastically. "There are little ears present!" His words fell on deaf ears, of course, because the Black Widow- plus one- had already leveled through their ranks and left the horde of men twitching on the floor of the dank factory.

Natasha rolled her eyes and adjusted the straps of the carrier attached to her front. "Were you planning on pulling your weight anytime soon? So far James has taken out more baddies than you," she scolded, although a smirk twisted her face. The four-month-old strapped to her chest gurgled happily in agreement, and Steve sighed.

"I just didn't feel like being riddled with bullets, is all," he shot back. "Besides, I knew you'd come through." After all, this was her first real mission since she'd been benched at six months pregnant, so it wasn't surprising she'd be eager to take out as many enemies as she could get her hands on. Too bad they hadn't been able to find a babysitter.

Steve, upon hearing no other goons in the area, quickly stuck his shield to the magnets on his back and held out his arms. "Here, I'll take him."

Natasha shook her head, a smile on her face and one hand over their son's back, even though he was fully supported. "I've got him. Let's continue the mission."

"Alright, if you're sure," Steve replied reluctantly, although he knew that their son was safest in her arms. He drew his shield again and led the way through the old factory until they came upon a fresh group of enemy soldiers.

"It's Captain America!" One of them cried.

"And Black Widow!" Said another.

One at the front of the group cocked his head, gun lowering a bit. "Wait, does she have a _baby_? Shit, she's got a baby!" Several of the soldiers became frantic in their confusion, clearly having no idea how to deal with this odd situation. Steve smirked.

"Yes, there is a baby strapped to my chest - so surrender," Natasha stated.

There were quite a few of them who looked all too eager to do just that, although none of them dropped their guns. "Do we shoot?" One at the back questioned nervously.

"Of course we shoot!" Replied another, although he made no move to follow through on his own order.

"But it's a baby! Can we shoot babies?"

Steve's smirk grew when Natasha rolled her eyes and began shooting at the soldiers without batting an eye. "Shouldn't have hesitated," he said with a small sigh, shaking his head.

"We have to hurry, it's nearly James' feeding time," Natasha reminded him.

With a shrug of acquiescence, Steve tossed his shield and watched it ricochet off the heads of the few remaining conscious goons before catching it moments later. "Well, I'd say we're done here." He waited for Natasha to extract the necessary information from the computers lining the far wall before taking a few detonators from his belt, planting them, and ushering his small family to the safety of the quinjet, listening to Natasha hum to a fussing James as the building blew up in their wake.

 **They're basically Marvel's version of "The Incredibles" now.**

 **Sorry to everybody who's left us prompts, either through reviews or PMs, that haven't been published. It's getting a bit hectic (I'm not an organized person by nature, and Vanilla is, but sometimes my disarray overlaps her careful organization) and quite a few have been put on the back-burner. So for now we'd like to take a small break from accepting prompts so we can get everything written and put out here for you all. I'll let you know when we're all caught up so you can start sending in your lovely prompts :) I know lots of you gave us prompts a long time ago that still haven't shown up yet, but please wait until I say we're all caught up, and if by then the prompt you really wanted us to write hasn't been written, just drop either of us a PM and remind us- we're only human, and this is our first prompt fic, so it's quite possible we may have lost track of or forgotten one or another.**

 **Anyway, so just a recap: WE ARE ON PROMPT-ACCEPTING HIATUS. WE WILL NOT BE ACCEPTING PROMPTS AT THIS TIME. I WILL LET YOU ALL KNOW WHEN WE ARE ACCEPTING THEM ONCE MORE.**

 **Alright, that's all I got for ya, lovelies!**

 **Have a fantabulous day!**

 **-Violet (and Vanilla)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Thanks to Sportsfan and Guest for the various prompts that went into this! Guest asked for a kind of darker ending, at least darker in terms of the relationship, but we didn't want to just end it like that, so we actually wrote two endings. _The_ _first section applies to both endings, so read that, and then you can either read both endings or skip whichever one you don't want to read. Ending one is the bittersweet one, ending two is the happy one. Feel free to skip number one if you don't want to see them split up._**

 **Anyway, enjoy!**

Natasha didn't regret much in her life; she sometimes felt like she should regret more due to how many lives she had taken. However, lately she had begun to regret marrying Steve Rogers, but not for the reason most people thought. She adored Steve, loved him more than she could even love herself, but that was what made the situation so much harder.

They had always been great partners, and constantly bantered back and forth, just like her and Clint. But, unlike her relationship with Clint, it went further than that. As cliched as it sounded, Natasha fell in love without even realizing it- in fact, she also fell into a relationship with him without even realizing it, either - and when she realized what was happening, it took her a while but she decided to just accept it.

Things from there went on so naturally, so normally- he accepted her, who she had been and who she was now. They married, because she knew it would make him happy, and even though everything on the surface was great, there were cracks in the foundation. It was becoming very apparent to her that sometimes, love is not enough.

Most of the time, when she thought about this, she knew that Steve was the perfect man for her; but she also knew that she was the worst for him. She was a monster, keeping him from true happiness and having a normal life.

There was so much darkness in her soul, and still in her life, which she knew affected him. He was still passionate about everything he did, his work life, friends, her, but they'd hit a standstill.

Steve had never made her feel bad about not being able to have children; however, after they were married, he'd casually mentioned starting a family through adoption. It seemed that from then, things just felt awkward. Not only couldn't she have children, but she didn't want any. It was a surprise to her that he hadn't known that- she had always been open about that aspect with him.

Natasha stood up slowly and walked over to the entryway table, where Steve always put his keys. They had said a brief goodbye early that morning before he headed out. She was going on a mission, but a much longer one than she had let on- and it was completely radio-silence. She placed the A4 envelope on the table, the divorce papers inside, before grabbing her go-bag and leaving their apartment - unsure if she'd ever return to it.

With a deep breath, she walked straight out without looking back.

 **ENDING ONE**

Steve never thought that six little words would ever be able to change his life this drastically. Words had power, sure, but he'd underestimated that power. Because those six words- two measly sentences- stole his breath away.

"Congratulations, Mr. Rogers. It's a girl."

Immediately he wanted to snatch her up, officially meet his daughter, but she needed to be checked over first and besides, his exhausted, strained yet ecstatic wife needed him. Still smiling like an idiot- although he didn't know when he'd started smiling so widely it hurt- he returned to the chair he'd been occupying for almost ten hours, right at her side. He reached out a slightly trembling hand and took hers, squeezing it.

"You did it, Katie!" He told her, although her giant smile said she was already perfectly aware of this fact.

"Did you get a good look at her yet?" She asked in a rather hoarse voice, trying to crane her neck to see if the nurse holding their newborn was still in the room. She wasn't, so Katie sunk back onto the mattress stiffly, wincing a little. "Ooh, I'm gonna be feeling this for weeks."

Steve chuckled sympathetically and went over to the counter, where a few extra pillows had been stacked, and brought over a few, propping her up with them. "I only got to see a bunch of squirmy pink limbs and a head _covered_ in hair," he answered, the mental image of his daughter making his heart skip a beat. He'd hardly gotten to see her and yet he couldn't possibly love that little girl any more than he already did.

Katie chuckled tiredly at the description, now seeming to be coming down from the high of exhilaration of their child finally being born. "I'll bet she's gonna look just like you when she's older," she said, eyes now at half-mast. A nurse came back in and began checking Katie over, changing out her IV bags and tittering on and on about how lucky they were to have such a beautiful, healthy baby. Steve felt a bit of pride at that; their daughter was going to be the most beautiful young woman on the planet, he was just sure of it.

Then the doctor came in to help with the health check, so Steve pressed a kiss to Katie's forehead and took his leave temporarily to go and grab her something to eat that wasn't the hospital's gross soup. There was a new spring in his step as he left the small private room, pure joy radiating from his every pore, and he was so caught up in his happiness that he almost didn't notice the figure leaning against the wall right outside the door until she spoke.

"Hey, stranger," Natasha greeted in a soft tone, just above a whisper. She was in normal clothes, which made her almost blend in with everybody else - almost. She couldn't hide those red locks.

Steve stopped short, staring at her for a good second before letting out a surprised, "Nat." He was a little worried about how awkward this might be- after all, this was his ex-wife, with whom he hadn't spoken too much in the past few months, now here, in the hospital where his child- from his new wife- had just been born. Still, he was delighted to see her again; they might not be married anymore, but her companionship was something he still loved. "Hi!"

She offered him a smile. "Congratulations- your daughter is beautiful. Hope you don't mind that I sneaked a peek."

He couldn't help proudly returning her smile. "I don't mind at all! I was actually planning on sneaking a peek myself on the way to the cafeteria- want to join me?" He really wanted to talk with her a bit before she inevitably took off again; he'd missed her.

"Sure, I suppose I have a few extra minutes," Natasha agreed, turning slowly before they simultaneously began walking. "How's Britney doing?"

"Katie," he corrected automatically, pacing himself to match her shorter strides. "She's doing fine, although I'd say she's all but wiped out. Kid gave a hell of a struggle to stay put." He chuckled a little.

"I like that kid already," Natasha replied with the ghost of a smirk. "What have you been doing lately?"

Steve shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Oh, the usual- when I'm not rubbing her feet I'm running to the store and buying random foods she feels like combining." Again he chuckled before moving on to a different aspect of his life so it didn't make Natasha uncomfortable; he didn't want it to feel like he was rubbing in his new marriage or something by repeatedly talking about his new wife. "I also volunteered to help rebuild the base in Rochester, since that psycho blew it up." _That_ had been one hellish day.

Natasha nodded mutely for a few moments. "Rebuilding fallen buildings, that sounds…" she didn't finish her sentence, so he knew it wasn't a positive statement. "I hear you haven't been doing any missions lately- hanging up your shield?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah- now that there's the baby to think about, I figured it was the responsible decision. I'll still be on call for emergencies that require Assembly, but I'm settling down a bit." He paused once he saw the sign for the nursery down the hall, then resumed walking with the purpose in mind. As soon as they reached window, he all but plastered himself to the glass, searching the room to see if this was where they were caring for his daughter.

Sure enough, he recognized the nurse from before, standing towards the back of the room and leaning over a sink, carefully bathing a newborn- _his_ newborn. A new smile split his face as he watched. "There she is," he slightly whispered, pointing to her in case Natasha hadn't located her yet; unlikely, but he felt the need to just in case.

"Does she have a name?" Natasha inquired, looking more at him than the infant.

"We haven't decided yet, but it's between Lily and Anne," he replied, pride swelling in his chest at the mere sight of the tiny creature he had helped create.

Natasha tilted her head to the side. "I always thought you'd go for Margaret - maybe you could go for Margaret Anne," she suggested before looking at her watch and pursing her lips, but she made no comment of the time.

He shrugged. "Well, Katie wasn't a big fan of Margaret - it's kind of old-fashioned nowadays, I guess." He was personally rather saddened that he couldn't name his daughter after Peggy, but he was still more than happy to choose a different name with his wife. "I'm leaning more towards Anne- has a nicer ring to it. Anne Rogers…" He trailed off happily, watching the nurse gently scrubbing the soap through the baby's surprisingly thick hair.

He was pretty sure she muttered, "she's a bitch," but decided to pretend to have not heard it. "Anne's rather plain- has no meaning to it. And your other option is a flower. Also… so original," she said sarcastically. "I should go, leave you to the naming of your child."

"Wait, don't go yet! I enjoy your company," he assured her with a kind smile. "Besides, this is one of the happiest days of my life- I'd like to share some of it with the people I care about."

"Steve, you're supposed to spend it with your wife, not ex-wife," Natasha stated. "You now have everything you ever wanted; you can finally be truly happy with life - why don't you go and enjoy it? Work out a boring name with no real meaning instead of fighting for the name you want, choose godparents, change diapers, retire even though you're still in top shape and just… have the white picket fence life. I don't fit in that life, so don't try tainting it by asking me to stay around."

Steve felt his joy crashing instantly. "Nat, don't say things like that," he said before he could even think about what he was saying. This was one thing he hated; he _hated_ when Natasha thought less of herself. "You are a part of my life and I never want that to change- you'll always have a place."

She shook her head. "Steve…" she said, the tone indicating that she did not agree with his words.

"Nat," he said with a strong tone of voice, making sure she stopped talking; he was going to get his point through. "Even before we were married, you were one of the most valuable people in my life; you managed to keep my head screwed on straight even when I was ready to ballistic. We were our own little team for years, even when we worked with the other Avengers. Just because we married and divorced doesn't mean all of those amazing years have been erased. You mean so much to me, even just as a friend."

Natasha stood there silently for a few moments, just staring at him before finally replying. "Our lives are so different now. Heading further away from each other... If you're ever in my lane, or need help with a mission, I'll be there. But I can't be a part of your normal life; that hurts too much."

Steve bowed his head in a half nod; he understood. He didn't think he'd be able to see her with anybody else, let alone having a child with them. So he understood her reasoning for not wanting to be around him when he was in this family mode - although, that didn't explain her turning up today. As he looked at her, still standing there, waiting for his response - which just wasn't coming - he wondered what life would have been like if he hadn't agreed to the divorce. It was such a shock when he found the papers, unable to truly fathom what was going on, but, part of him had expected it, too. He'd loved her- still did, actually- and knew that the differences between them could destroy them. She had always been smarter than him, always thought ahead of time and went with the best option.

He still remembered finally signing those papers nearly a year after she'd originally presented them to him, but couldn't remember how hard he tried to get her back to him. Did he try everything to make things work, or did he secretly know that the divorce was best? Those thoughts clouded his mind for years, but he moved on regardless, and was truly happy with Katie. It was a different happiness than he'd experienced with Natasha, but still blissful happiness.

"Promise me one thing," Natasha said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Don't let her push you around; that's your baby, too. You have equal say - and if she puts up too much of a fight, I'll always be your assassin friend."

Steve let out a small smile at the joke - even though he was sure it was also an offer. "Thanks for coming, Nat," he said gratefully. It was time to, once again, let her go.

Natasha stepped forward and planted a soft kiss onto his cheek before walking off without another word.

He turned and watched her leave before turning his attention back to his baby girl. Maybe Natasha was right; Katie had selected both Lily and Anne as the options for their baby, and even though they were nice names, he hadn't had much of an input. Margaret shouldn't have been thrown to the side so quickly because it was 'old-fashioned'; _he_ was old-fashioned. He'd bring it up again. Maybe they could come to a compromise.

 **ENDING TWO**

Natasha effortlessly took out her target and walked off, past individuals unsuspecting as to who she was and what she had just done. As if she sensed it going off, she picked up her phone and answered it as it silently rang in her pocket. "Romanoff," she answered, just like she always had.

"Mrs. Rogers, you are needed at HQ immediately," a S.H.I.E.L.D agent replied instantly.

"It's Romanoff, you idiot," she replied. "What is this regarding? I'm in the middle of a mission," she added, although, technically, she had already finished the mission.

The S.H.I.E.L.D agent cleared his throat. "Not according to our records. It regards your husband-"

"You mean my _ex-hus-_ "

"No, ma'am, your _husband,_ Steve Rogers. He's been injured."

Natasha groaned; this conversation was just getting worse and worse. There were so many things wrong with what the agent was saying that she presumed they must be under siege and the agent was spilling a bunch of bullshit to get her attention. Because, firstly, it was Romanoff, not Rogers - she didn't even go by Steve's last name when they _were_ married. Secondly, she wasn't married to Steve Rogers. And thirdly, Steve would have been recovered by the time this conversation was over, anyway. "Whatever. I'm on my way."

* * *

Steve stared at his arm in wonder. "I can't believe it's still broken!" He exclaimed, poking the irritated flesh experimentally. The medical tech rolled her eyes and swatted his hand away.

"Doing _that_ is _not_ going to help it heal faster," she chided for the umpteenth time. He frowned like she'd ruined his fun.

"But it actually _hurts_! That's amazing!" It had been years since an injury had lasted for more than two seconds. He took an odd sort of enjoyment from feeling like an ordinary human being again. And it was just interesting. "Like, it's causing me pain!"

The tech rolled her eyes again. "Then maybe you should let me give you some meds." She kept insisting he needed drugs to help with the pain, but he was honestly fine with it. It wouldn't last much longer, anyway.

"I'm fairly certain your meds won't work on me."

As if this woman had been trained in sass by Natasha herself, the tech pressed a hand to her eyes and let out a longsuffering sigh. "Then that means tranqs won't work on you either," she muttered to herself. He narrowed his eyes at her and was tempted to stick out his tongue, but repressed the childish urge.

He barely had time to register the med bay doors sliding open before he was under siege. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" Natasha almost shouted as she walked into the room, holding a tablet that almost came flying at his head.

Ah, there was the reckoning he'd been dreading. "Hey, Nat," he greeted with as much cheer as he could muster. When the tech took Natasha's hint and left the two of them alone, he was tempted to call out for her to come back, because he'd rather not be alone with a pissed off Natasha he hadn't spoken with in months. "Long time no see, huh?"

Natasha obviously didn't like that response, as the tablet landed on his chest with a huff. "Seriously? _That's_ your starting line after not sending in the divorce papers?"

He winced and hoped he looked especially pitiful with his broken arm cradled to his chest the way it was- maybe then she'd find it in her heart to not murder him violently. "I… didn't want to get a divorce?" He offered as a weak defense, shrinking back instinctively from the blow that was surely coming.

Natasha scowled. "And you didn't think of, I don't know, _contacting me_ about that? This is kind of a big deal, Steve- it's not a homework assignment you can just decide to get a bad grade on! I thought we were officially divorced these past few months!"

Steve groaned. "I wanted to contact you, but you've been all over the place! Mission here, mission there, mission that not even S.H.I.E.L.D knows about, apparently! Do you know how hard it is to get ahold of you?"

"If you wanted to get ahold of me, you know how - instead you make up this bullshit story and get me called in? They only do that with life-threatening injuries, and you're obviously not dying - yet."

Steve frowned, a bit more defensive. "I didn't tell them to call you! They thought there _was_ something potentially life-threatening about it- after all, when's the last time my arm's been broken for more than an hour? This still hasn't healed all the way, and it's been four hours! There was some concern!" Granted, he was healing much faster now, as apparently something in the mission's environment had slowed his healing and its effects were now wearing off, but there had been some serious worry earlier when basically no progress was being made.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "It's just a broken arm," she pointed out, unamused. "Come and find me later, when you're ready to actually talk." And with that, she walked off.

The tech- Sofia, her name tag read- returned moments later with a splint. "Complain about this and I'm breaking your legs." She threatened, and to that Steve smartly said nothing.

* * *

Approximately two hours later, Steve was a free man. His arm was completely healed, Sofia hadn't strangled him to death like her glare had promised many times, and it seemed that everything was normal again. Except for Natasha, of course. That still needed to be dealt with.

He found her in the firing range, expertly putting bullets in the target's head, heart, abdomen, and a few times in the ankles just for good measure. Of course she'd choose to be surrounded by guns when they finally spoke about his failure to officially file their divorce. Of course.

"So, let's talk, then," he stated somewhat awkwardly once she'd lowered her gun to check her results- as if she needed to.

"Why would you not take the opportunity to have a normal life? That makes no sense to me," Natasha started, not looking at him and instead deciding to dismantle her gun.

Well, she was jumping right in, it seemed. Steve was a bit thrown by the way she'd asked the question- he'd been expecting 'why didn't you file the papers, you asshole,' not _this_. "Well, I… I didn't want a normal life. I didn't want to divorce," he answered, plain and simple.

She scoffed. "Of course you want a normal life- that's all you've _ever_ wanted." He was sure he heard her call him an unflattering name under her breath afterwards.

Steve crossed his arms and leaned against the wall with a huff. "Who cares about normal? I wanted a family, a good life- you provided both of those."

Natasha turned to look at him. "I'm not your family - a family involves children," she pointed out, crossing her arms. "You're stupid."

"You're my family because I love you! Children or not, we're family because we love each other! If I loved you based on what you could give me, that wouldn't be love at all!" He argued, frustrated that she refused to _see_.

"Even without adopting or expanding our family, like you suggested?"

He sighed; he had wanted children, yes. But it was a bit of an outdated dream, since he'd married Nat. He'd rather be with Natasha and have no children than to have children with someone else. "Even without adopting or expanding our family," he agreed genuinely.

Natasha ran a hand over her face, thoughtfully, before taking a bit of a shaky breath and turning away from him so he couldn't see her face. "Fine, we won't divorce, then."

Steve was surprised at how suddenly she'd come to that conclusion, but he was overjoyed just the same. Taking a chance, he took a few steps forward and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head with a small sigh. "Thank you," he murmured.

"I got a cat - named Liho," Natasha informed him as she turned around in his arms and looked up at him. "Maybe he can join our little family- I'm sure he'd love you."

Steve chuckled and pulled her a little closer. "I'm sure I'll love him too," he responded before her lips were on his. He lifted her up for pure convenience and so they were closer - he'd missed this.

 **And there we have it! Please, no flames for the first ending- it doesn't quite fit the Romanogers theme, we know, but we did like the way we wrote that ending and decided to keep it instead of completely replacing it.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading!**

 **Have a wonderful day, Lovelies!**

 **-Violet (and Vanilla)**


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